


The Lion of Lannister and The Little Bird

by BestDeadFriendsForever



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Might technically be considered underage, Period-Typical Underage, Sansa marries Jaime instead of Tyrion AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-09-15 21:54:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 49,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16941426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BestDeadFriendsForever/pseuds/BestDeadFriendsForever
Summary: Sansa’s eyes flickered up to Lord Tywin's in a mild panic. She had known, in her heart, that they’d never let her go free, but she’d hoped that they wouldn’t force her to marry so soon. She’d hoped for a few more months of freedom.But just like all the rest of Sansa’s hopes, that fantasy was shattered in front of her eyes......Jaime returns to King's Landing earlier than in the show, because of this Tywin Lannister decides to betroth his eldest son, who he stripped of his position in the Kingsguard, to the little bird who holds the key to the North.You can pry this AU from my cold, dead hands, y'all





	1. Chapter 1

            Jaime had been imagining what it would feel like to walk back into King’s Landing since the moment he’d left to fight Robb Stark. He thought he’d feel elated to be back, or at least relieved to not being separated from his sister anymore. But he didn’t feel that.

            He just felt hollowed out and exhausted.

            But he dragged himself up to the Red Keep and was too tired to even be furious when the guards didn’t recognize him on sight and let him in.

            Brienne quickly remedied that problem. “This is Jaime Lannister, son of Tywin Lannister, Hand of the King.” The guards scrambled then to let them pass and even dispatched an escort for them.

            Jaime was glad to be shielded, at least a little, from the many prying eyes of the capitol. People said enough nasty things behind his back, he didn’t need any more about his current appearance.

            He was escorted to his chambers and he asked for a squire to draw him a bath. He needed a great many things, but the bath was the most pressing so that he could be presentable enough to report to his father. What came next, Jaime couldn’t even begin to imagine. He was too tired, and he just didn’t care.

            He’d lost his dignity and his right hand. That was enough to break any man.

…..

            Sansa was sat in the gardens with some embroidery with Margaery, Lady Olenna, and the brood of Margaery’s cousins when a man, dressed in the Tyrell colors, came sprinting towards the Queen of Thorns and moved to whisper in her ear once he’d bowed and she’d waved him over.

            Lady Olenna’s face gave nothing away, but Sansa suddenly felt fear gripping her heart tightly. She made sure that it didn’t show on her face, but Lady Olenna noticed her staring anyway. When she spoke, she didn’t address Sansa directly, but Sansa knew all the same that Margaery’s grandmother was talking to her. “It seems the Kingslayer has come home, licking his wounds. The Young Wolf’s bite must be as bad as his bark after all.” Lady Olenna smiled at Sansa but Sansa’s hands were suddenly trembling too much to continue her embroidery.

            “Lady Olenna, if you would excuse me, I think I’d like to go pray in the godswood,” Sansa said and gave a flawless curtsey before she rushed off in the direction of the pitiful excuse of a godswood that King’s Landing had to offer.

            Her mind was whirling as she stumbled down the steps to her one and only sanctuary. She already felt hot tears streaking down her face and she felt like she could hardly breathe. When she moved to kneel in front of the stump of what had once been the weirwood tree, the ocean breeze rolled in gently and it eased the tightness in her chest. She sucked in a shaky breath and wiped at her stupid tears.

            She was letting her mind get away with her. But an ugly voice in the back of her head, that sounded very much like the Queen, told her that Robb would never have let Jaime Lannister get away. If Jaime Lannister was in the capitol, it meant her brother was dead. And if Robb was dead… Sansa might as well have been dead too.

            She bit down on her lip, wiped away the last of her tears, and started to truly pray. She prayed for her brother and mother’s health and safety, she prayed for Bran and Rickon back at Winterfell, and she even prayed for Arya, whether she was dead or alive it didn’t matter because remembering to pray for her kept Arya alive in Sansa’s mind for at least a little longer.

…..

            It was a whole day before Tywin Lannister sent for Jaime.

            Jaime had been bathed, rested, and redressed in clothes befitting his station before he set foot in his father’s solar. He stood and watched as his father, seated at his impressive desk, jotted down a few more raven scrolls before setting his pen down and pinning Jaime with his eyes. Jaime tried very hard not to squirm as his father’s green gaze.

            “So, you’ve escaped Robb Stark,” Tywin said. There was little inflection or emotion in his father’s voice.

            “No,” Jaime said, and his voice wavered for a moment. “Catelyn Stark let me go in exchange that I send her two daughters home to Winterfell.”

            “And you agreed?” Tywin asked.

            Jaime blinked. This suddenly felt when he’d been young, and his father had asked him an obvious question about his lessons to test him. “Of course,” Jaime said carefully. “What’s two girls in comparison to your son and leader of your army?” Jaime asked but seeing his father’s face change made him want to take a step back.

            “And did you intend to keep this deal you made with Catelyn Stark, a traitor to the crown?”

            Jaime didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure what to answer at this point because the truth was getting him nowhere.

            “You will not be honoring that promise to Catelyn Stark. Her daughter, the eldest one, is here in the capitol, the other is gone.” Tywin waved his hand. “Sansa Stark is the key to the North.”

            “What-?” Jaime started to ask.

            Tywin held up a hand, effectively cutting Jaime off. “Get yourself cleaned up and presentable for court.”

            “Why?” Jaime demanded, his patience fraying.

            “Because you’re going to be stripped of your white cloak at court, declared heir and acting lord of Casterly Rock, and be betrothed to a highborn girl worthy of your position and name.”

            Before the war, Jaime would have railed against the very notion that his father would take away what Jaime had earned himself, but Jaime wasn’t like the man he’d been before the war. This Jaime Lannister was exhausted.

            “And when am I to lose everything?” Jaime asked bitterly, but obediently.

            “Tomorrow. The wedding will be as soon as the arrangements can be completed. So likely a little longer than a sennight,” Tywin said.

            Jaime’s stomach clenched. “And then I’m to be shipped off with my new bride to Casterly Rock?” Jaime asked through gritted teeth.

            “Not straight away, but soon after,” Tywin said, ignoring Jaime’s tone as he scrawled out more wedding details, presumably.

            “And who am I to marry?”

            Tywin Lannister looked up at his son, his face screaming disappointment at Jaime’s density. “Sansa Stark, of course.”

            Jaime did physically stumble back. “Sansa Stark is little more than a child.”

            “She’s flowered and thus a suitable bride. You’ll marry Sansa Stark and with her claim, you will be Lord of both the Westerlands and the North.” Tywin went back to his work. Jaime stood there, in shock, until his father looked up at him. “Is there anything else?”

            “No, I suppose you’ve thought of everything,” Jaime said, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. He turned on his heel and walked out, fully intending to go to his chambers and sit in silence for a good long while.

            He’d barely closed the door and moved away before his brother was barging in and staring him down. “I just heard about Father’s plans for you,” Tyrion said and moved to shut the door behind him.

            “Come to congratulate me, have you?” Jaime asked with a twisted smirk.

            “You could do far worse than Sansa Stark,” Tyrion said though there was a hardness in his voice that Jaime hadn’t seen before. “Though I could say she could do a touch better than you at the moment.”

            “I didn’t _ask_ for the match! I don’t want to marry a stupid little girl!” Jaime snapped.

            Tyrion laughed outrightly. “You listen to Cersei too much. Sansa Stark is the furthest thing from stupid. She’s one of the cleverest people that I know,” Tyrion said and shook his head. He limped his way over to the chair across from Jaime and pulled himself up to sit down.

            “Then you marry her,” Jaime grumbled.

            “Poor, pitiful Jaime. Poor, poor handsome Jaime who’s being forced to marry a stunningly beautiful and clever girl,” Tyrion snarked before he rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry if I don’t take your aggrievance with your situation all that seriously.”

            Jaime scowled at his brother.

            “Talk to her,” Tyrion suggested as he poured them both glasses of wine. “You’re going to be forced to marry her no matter what, so make the best of it.”

            Jaime reached over with his left hand to twirl the stem of his glass between his fingers. “Fine.” He took a sip, made a face, and then set it down away from himself.

            “I think you might even come to like her,” Tyrion said with a small smirk.

            “I doubt that,” Jaime muttered to himself.

…..

            Sansa could admit that Tywin Lannister scared her. He was a formidable man with a reputation of being cold and calculating. So far, he’d lived up to that reputation.

            Which was why when, after breakfast, she was called to see Tywin Lannister in his solar, she was understandably cautious and nervous. She had Shae brush her hair out and dress it simply, like Margaery’s but less complex, and then put on one of her more modest gowns.

            She was trying desperately not to twist the hem of her sleeve in her fingers as she walked toward the lion’s den.

            She had the squire outside Lord Tywin’s door announce her and he called for her to come in before she dared to set foot inside.

            If Sansa was frightened of Tywin Lannister on his own, she could easily admit to being petrified to find that she was facing not only Tywin Lannister, but all three of his children, Joffrey, Margaery, and Lady Olenna as well.

            Sansa dipped into a flawless curtsey and, because she didn’t know who she should address but not wanting to address everyone, she stayed silent. She flicked her eyes to the only friendly faces in the room, Margaery and Lady Olenna, and Margaery nodded at her encouragingly which gave Sansa a small glimmer of something akin to warmth.

            “Please sit, Lady Sansa,” Lord Tywin said and gestured to the seat between Margaery and himself. She nodded and moved to sit, trying not to flinch at the way Joffrey’s eyes followed her and the way Cersei, who was across from Margaery, was glaring at her.

            “Thank you, my lord,” Sansa said softly, making sure to keep her eyes downcast and her posture demure.

            “We called you here because your engagement to Joffrey has been broken,” Tywin said carefully as if he were explaining something to a particularly stupid child. “Yet a lady of your breeding and age should be married to someone that befits her station. We have found a match for you.”

            Sansa’s eyes flickered up to his in a mild panic. She had known, in her heart, that they’d never let her go free, but she’d hoped that they wouldn’t force her to marry so soon. She’d hoped for a few more months of freedom.

            But just like all the rest of Sansa’s hopes, that fantasy was shattered in front of her eyes.

            Everyone was looking at her expectantly and she forced herself to speak softly and with respect. “I thank you for your gracious consideration for my well-being,” Sansa said.

            Tywin narrowed his eyes at her for a moment.

            Margaery reached over and took her hand gently.

            “I intend for you to be betrothed to my son,” Sansa’s heart jack-hammered in her chest, “Jaime. You will be the future Lady of Casterly Rock.”

            Margaery squeezed Sansa’s hand in hers.

            “She is a traitor’s daughter!” Cersei raged, and Sansa closed her eyes to disguise the flinch.

            “And that is why she will not be queen,” Tywin said calmly.

            “She’s beneath Jaime,” Cersei scowled. “You’d sully your eldest son’s reputation? Sully your dynasty?”

            “This isn’t your concern! You are merely here as a courtesy since you are family,” Lord Tywin snapped, and she closed her mouth, but her murderous look was still firmly in place. “Since you’ve no family to consent to the match,” Tywin said, “I leave the consent to the King as the father of the realm.” Now everyone’s eyes were on Joffrey.

            He was smiling wickedly at Sansa in a way that made her skin crawl. “I’d be overjoyed to have Sansa become my aunt,” Joffrey said a tone that coming from anyone else would have sounded almost sweet. “The Crown consents to this match.”

            “Well, then we better start getting a gown and maiden cloak ready,” Lady Olenna said. “As you so rudely pointed out, the girl has no family,” she said and gave Lord Tywin a withering glare, “so House Tyrell will take care of that.”

            “Then that’s settled,” Tywin said. “The wedding will be in the Sept of Baelor in a sennight.” Lord Tywin stood and everyone else stood as well. The Hand of the King left with the King wandering after him.

            “Come, Sansa, let’s see about that new gown.” Margaery was obviously trying to cheer Sansa up, but Sansa only felt a numb buzzing in the back of her head as Margaery and Lady Olenna flanked her and lead her away from the lion’s den.

            Out of the mouth of one lion and into another.

…..

            Jaime knew that Cersei was going to be a force to be reckoned with after her outburst. But Jaime was more focused on his pity for the poor Stark girl as she was led away by the Tyrell women.

            “Well, that went well I think,” Tyrion said and clapped his hands together, a bright grin on his face.

            Both Jaime and Cersei gave Tyrion withering glances.

            “Such a splendid little bride will Sansa make,” Tyrion jabbered on, watching Cersei’s face intently. Jaime knew this game well. Tyrion was trying to see how far he could push Cersei before she snapped. Jaime didn’t enjoy being in the middle of this game. “Always been such a pretty girl. Think of her wrapped in all that white, or perhaps ivory, maybe silver if she’s feeling particularly bold.”

            “Who gives a damn about that little whore’s dress?” Cersei snapped. Tyrion’s smile only widened.

            “That’s our future sister you’re talking about,” Tyrion admonished playfully.

            “Stop it, the both of you,” Jaime said wearily and shook his head. He got up and started toward his chambers. He needed to reshave his face, something he’d done after his meeting with his father the day before, and he was contemplating cutting his hair as well.

            He had been so wrapped up in keeping his mind busy with mundane things that he hadn’t noticed his sister following him until he was in his chambers and she was closing the door behind them. Jaime blinked at her as she glared at him, her features lit up with fury.

            Once, Jaime had thought her particularly beautiful this way, but now he just thought she looked angry.

            “Are you really going to let Father tell you to marry the Stark bitch?” Cersei snapped.

            “It’s Father, he always gets what he wants, sooner or later,” Jaime said and shook his head. “Besides, I can hardly hope to stay in the Kingsguard now.” Jaime glared down at his missing appendage with scorn. He was lucky to be alive, yes, but he didn’t have to enjoy the loss of his fighting hand. “If he wants me to marry, then I marry and go to Casterly Rock because that’s all that’s left for me to do.”

            “You’re going to leave me. Again,” Cersei said bitterly.

            “I didn’t have a choice!” Jaime snapped, and it was the first time in a very long time that he could remember snapping at his sister.

            “You really are a broken man,” Cersei muttered. She was trying to hurt him, and to a point it stung, but Jaime merely shrugged and put on his trademark smirk.

            “I am missing a few parts.”

            Cersei snorted derisively before she turned to stalk out of the room.

            Jaime sighed after the door slammed shut behind the fury of his sister. The silence that was left behind was louder than any battle Jaime had ever been in.

…..

            Sansa ran her fingers over one of the pretty white materials that Margaery’s family had mustered up to let her choose from for her wedding dress.

            Her wedding dress to Jaime Lannister.

            Tears pricked at Sansa’s eyes, but she willed them down. No one, not even her friend, would see her cry at this latest misery.

            “Do you not like them?” Margaery asked. “We can always send for more. My family and I want you to have everything you want for your wedding, Sansa.”

            “They’re all beautiful,” Sansa said. She laid her hand on a cream-colored fabric with white lace overlay and gold detailing. “I think this would suit well,” she said dryly as she noted the flecks of gold that decorated the fabric.

            Margaery smiled. “Fit for a Lannister bride,” she said with a hint of venom in her voice. “With a bit of detailing work, we can make it perfect. You’ll stun them all.” She said it with a hint of conspiracy to her voice that cheered Sansa a little.

            “Thank you, Margaery,” Sansa said genuinely. “You all didn’t have to do this for me.”

            “We didn’t,” Margaery said and nodded to their fabric selection for the seamstress to take. “But I’m glad we did, sweet girl.” Margaery looped her arm through Sansa’s and hugged her tightly. “Now come, there’s still so much more to do!”

            Sansa smiled despite the queasy feeling in her stomach.


	2. Chapter 2

                Sansa tried not to squirm as the seamstress was fitting her dress for her. It was very pretty and Margaery, in her infinite savvy for fashion, had been right about adding some additional embellishment. She glittered with gold like a true Lannister bride, but there were hints of silver to represent House Stark.

            Sansa felt shaky once the final pins were placed into the fabric. “How do you like it Lady Stark?” The seamstress looked nervous.

            Sansa forced a smile. “It’s beautiful work. Thank you for working so diligently. I’m sorry I couldn’t have given you a longer notice.” It wasn’t the poor seamstress’s fault that Tywin Lannister wanted a rush on this godsforsaken wedding.

            The seamstress flushed with pleasure and dipped into a curtsey. “Your ladyship does me honor.” Sansa merely nodded and then they were helping her out of her gown. She was just about to reach for her dressing gown when there was a knock on the door and then Tyrion stepped inside. She flushed and pulled the rumpled material up to her chest to at least cover her exposed corset.

            Tyrion immediately turned his back on her when he realized his mistake. “I’m so sorry, my lady,” Tyrion said and shook his head at himself. “I wasn’t thinking. I should have waited.”

            Sansa darted behind her dressing screen and pulled her robe on. “It’s alright, Lord Tyrion,” Sansa said though she felt horrified at being seen in only her corset and underskirt. She pulled her robe close around her and tied it tightly.

            “Just Tyrion, please, Lady Sansa. We’re to be brother and sister soon enough,” Tyrion said, and Sansa stepped out from behind her screen.

            “Alright, Tyrion. Then I suppose you should call me Sansa.” Sansa touched his shoulder lightly so that he would look at her.

            While Sansa disliked and even hated the Lannisters, Tyrion had been kind to her. He’d saved her from Joffrey’s torturing and humiliating of her at every opportunity he could. He’d stopped Meryn Trant from ripping her clothes off and beating her half to death in front of the court.

            He was the only person who was willing to stand up to Joffrey, and for that Sansa at least gave him her respect.

            “I would like that very much,” Tyrion said and gave her a soft smile. He gestured for her to sit and then settled in the chair next to her. “I can’t imagine that this is easy for you. If I were you… well, I might have flung myself off the highest tower and been done with it. If I were you, I would have done it a long time ago if I’m honest with myself, and I try to be.” Sansa cracked a small smile at that. “You are a strong young lady, and I admire that.”

            “Thank you,” Sansa said quietly.

            “If I may, I would like to give you a wedding gift. It’s not much, but I thought you’d like at least one thing that isn’t just frills.” Tyrion smiled at her and produced from the inside pocket of his doublet a small, leather-bound book. “It’s some of the tales that Lady Margaery said were your favorite. I hope you don’t mind that I went to her.”

            Sansa was, frankly, touched. “Thank you, Tyrion. I don’t mind in the slightest.” She gently took the book from his fingers and smiled as she thumbed through the first couple of pages. “It’s lovely.”

            “I’m glad you like it,” Tyrion genuinely looked relieved. There was a short silence between them before Tyrion spoke again. “And, if I may be so bold, I would give you a little bit of advice.”

            Sansa looked up and nodded for him to continue.

            “Give Jaime a chance.” Sansa frowned at that. “He may be a Lannister, and by no means would I blame you for hating us until the end of our line, but Jaime is nothing like our father. Jaime is kind and compassionate. It just might take a little faith and patience to get him to show it.” Tyrion got down from his chair and took her hand between his. “I wish you all the happiness in the world, Sansa. Truly, I do.”

            “Thank you, Tyrion,” Sansa said softly, and she covered his hands.

            He nodded at her one last time before he left her alone with her thoughts.

…..

            Jaime scowled as Qyburn fiddled about with injured arm. The not-maester was putting padding where Jaime’s arm was truncated. Jaime looked away, feeling sick at the memories of Locke and his butcher knife.

            “Stop looking like a poked bear,” Cersei snapped.

            “I would if I wasn’t being poked at,” Jaime said and wrinkled his nose. Qyburn quirked a small smile and Jaime bit down on the inside of his cheek. Now he thought he knew why Tyrion poked at Cersei so much. The sour look on her face was incredibly amusing.

            Jaime frowned at the golden hand that Qyburn took from behind him and moved to fit over where Jaime’s hand had once been. He winced and tried to pull away, but Qyburn’s grip was firm for such a feeble-looking man.

            “The craftsmanship is excellent,” Qyburn said as he pulled the straps tight to keep the damn thing on.

            “If you like it so much, you’re welcome to chop off your own hand and take it,” Jaime grumbled as Qyburn pulled and twisted sending shooting pain up to settle in Jaime’s elbow.

            “Such an ingrate,” Cersei muttered as he poured herself a glass of wine. “I spent days with the goldsmith getting the details just right.”

            Jaime narrowed his eyes. “Days?”

            “Better part of an afternoon.” Cersei turned away and Jaime rolled his eyes.

            “There, how does that feel?” Qyburn asked.

            Jaime just looked at it and moved his arm a little. “Like I’m still missing a hand.”

            Cersei shot him a glare and then turned to talk to Qyburn quietly. When they glanced at him, he waved sarcastically and then Qyburn took his leave of them. Jaime felt the charged energy in the room as Cersei moved over to her chaise to sit down. Once the energy would have thrilled him, but now it just set his teeth on edge.

            “So what now?” Cersei asked. “You marry the Stark bitch and you run off to Casterly Rock leaving me alone. Again.”

            “Stop calling her that,” Jaime said and frowned.

            Cersei looked genuinely taken aback. “Why’re you defending her?”

            “Because she’s a _child_ , Cersei!” Jaime snapped and stood up. His balance felt a little off because of the stupid gold hand, but he stalked around the desk, but he became rooted to the spot when she stood up as well. “She’s a child and none of this is her fault. Stop blaming her for Father’s decisions.”

            “Oh yes, I forgot. Poor little dove’s only a pawn in the great game,” Cersei sneered.

            “You were at her age,” Jaime pointed out quietly.

            She was silent for a long time and Jaime shook his head. “I was never a pawn,” Cersei said in a low, dangerous voice. Jaime watched her for a long moment before he sighed heavily.

            “I should go.”

            And for the first time, Cersei didn’t try to stop him.

            Not physically or with soothing words.

            Jaime Lannister walked right out of his sister’s room, unimpeded.

…..

            Sansa had needed a walk to get away from Margaery and her well-meaning family. All it did was make her chest ache for her own family. She’d even take Arya’s screaming and pulling her hair. She smiled to herself at the thought of what Arya would think of all of this.

            Her sister would probably call her stupid and make sure that she ruined everything.

            Not that there was really anything to be ruined. Sansa was marrying into the family that was her family’s enemy. Her gut twisted guiltily at the slight relief. At least it wasn’t Joffrey.

            She turned a corner and there in front of her was Tyrion bookended by Bronn, his sell sword, and Jaime Lannister himself.

            She stopped, hoping that perhaps they wouldn’t see her, but the way that Tyrion’s eyes locked with hers and he smiled she knew that she’d been spotted. Bronn grinned and made a comment that Sansa couldn’t hear but Tyrion laughed, and Jaime turned his eyes toward her.

            She felt even more like a little girl as his bright green eyes swept over her. She felt a flush darkening her cheeks as they approached.

            “Sweet Sansa,” Tyrion said and swept her an over the top bow that made her cheeks burn even more furiously. “We were just talking about you.”

            “We were _not_ ,” Bronn snorted as he examined his dirty fingernails.

            “No, we weren’t,” Jaime said quietly and kept his eyes more toward his brother than on his future wife.

            “It’s certainly a treat to see you without a flock of Tyrell girls about you,” Tyrion said. “Perhaps we could steal you away to provide some fairer company.” Tyrion cut Jaime a side-glance that Sansa would have had to be blind to miss.

            Jaime’s jaw ticked in response.

            Sansa averted her eyes, suddenly feel extremely unwanted.

            “It would be good for you and Jaime to get to know one another,” Tyrion encouraged.

            Sansa looked over at Jaime, daring to look him in the eye, and drew herself up to her full height. “And here we have a convenient chaperone to guard my virtue,” Sansa said, quirking a smile.

            There was a beat before Tyrion and Bronn both burst into laughter. Sansa was slightly pleased to see even Jaime was smiling down at his boots.

…..

            Jaime was amused at how easily Sansa turned a phrase. He’d been told countless times by Cersei that Sansa was an idiot, and when he’d last seen her, she was an idealistic girl that would rather live in her own fantasy world of chivalry then face the harsh realities of the brutish world they lived in.

            She certainly had grown.

            Jaime had a sneaking suspicion his sweet sister had a hand in that growth. As did his beastly eldest child.

            Guilt and disgust churned in his stomach at that thought. He’d have to ask Tyrion about what he knew of this. He wanted to know what horrors Sansa had faced at the hands of his family.

            They began walking again and Tyrion and Bronn fell into step behind he and Sansa. Jaime matched his pace to hers easily, but when it came to trying to speak to her, he felt completely wrong-footed. Sansa didn’t seem keen to make conversation either so Jaime just walked in silence.

            Jaime glanced over at Tyrion and Tyrion looked at him meaningfully.

            “Lady Sansa,” Jaime said softly and then his voice faltered. She looked over at him and Jaime was struck by how much she looked like her mother. Of course, everyone who looked at her thought so, but more than that, Sansa resembled her brother, Robb, as well. It must have been the way she carried herself. The same youthful swagger, though Sansa’s had a bit of a defeated slump to her shoulders.

            “Ser Jaime,” Sansa said back after the stilted silence.

            “For fuck’s sake,” Jaime heard Bronn mutter under his breath.

            Thankfully they were saved from having to speak anymore by Brienne and Margaery turning the corner in front of them, arm in arm.

            “Sansa, sweet girl,” Margaery said sweetly, and her eyes flicked over to Jaime, narrowing just the slightest bit. Jaime straightened up impossibly and he looked at Brienne, who was watching him with her big blue eyes. “So, this is where you’ve run off to.” She gave a coy smile and Sansa’s cheeks flushed a pretty pink.

            Jaime couldn’t quite take his eyes off of her.

            “Ser Jaime, there’s a private matter I’d like to speak to you about,” Brienne said. “That’s why I was in the gardens.”

            “And she ran into me,” Margaery chirped. “Because I was looking for Sansa. My grandmother is absolutely in a state about Sansa’s jewels.” Margaery rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

            “Is there something wrong, Brienne?” Jaime asked and raised an eyebrow.

            “No, but it is urgent nonetheless.” Brienne’s face was more grave than normal, so Jaime nodded.

            “I must bid you good day, my lady,” Jaime said and nodded curtly to Sansa. He gave her a cursory apologetic smile before moving to walk away from the group, Brienne following him.

            Once they were safely away from anyone that could overhear them, Brienne touched Jaime’s shoulder. “It’s about the Lady Sansa,” Brienne started. “You made an oath to return her and her sister to their mother. And I made an oath to see it done.”

            “I can’t,” Jaime said and ducked his head. “It’s not that simple.” Brienne’s face was disapproving almost instantly.

            “You gave Catelyn Stark your _word_.”

            “And I will keep my oath to keep Sansa safe… just not in the way I originally planned,” Jaime said. “She’s going to be my wife, she couldn’t be safer. No one would dare lay a finger on the Kingslayer’s wife.”

            Brienne scoffed in exasperation.

            “Do you trust me?” Jaime asked.

            She studied him for a long moment and Jaime gave her a soft smile. “I do,” she said quietly and ducked her head to break their prolonged gaze.

            “Then trust me,” Jaime clapped her arm with his good hand.

            “Why do I feel like I’m going to regret this?” Brienne asked no one in particular.

…..

            “Well, I have to say that I envy you completely, Sansa,” Margaery said as she looped her arm through Sansa’s and tugged them hip to hip.

            “And why is that?” Sansa blurted out, edging on rude.

            Margaery laughed brightly. “Because you’re only marrying the handsomest man in all seven kingdoms. Ser Jaime may even have Loras beaten. But don’t ever tell Loras I said such a thing.” Margaery smiled.

            “I never-” Sansa felt so childish.

            “Thought about it?” Margaery asked, reading Sansa’s mind as she so often had since the girls had met. “What’s there to think about? All you have to do is look at him. He’s so rugged and-”

            “He’s a Lannister,” Sansa cut in.

            “He is,” Margaery said softly and patted Sansa’s arm. “But he’s far from the worst Lannister, would you say?”

            Sansa stopped in her tracks and looked over at Margaery, horrified. “I’m sorry.” Sansa shook her head, mentally berating herself. “Here _I_ am complaining to _you_.” Sansa felt like an idiot, and a horrible friend. Margaery had the much worse end of her betrothal and they both knew it.

            “My son will be king,” Margaery said with a shrug. “Sons learn from their mothers, and I intend to teach mine a great deal.” Margaery had a soft smile. “And _your_ son, if I’m not mistaken, your son might be the Lord of Casterly Rock _and_ the North someday.”

            Sansa thought about it for a moment, and it didn’t seem so bad, until her mind snapped back to who it was, she was going to have to have a son with.

            “What?” Margaery asked.

            “My son… with _him_.” Sansa frowned.

            “Perhaps he’ll surprise you, Sansa,” Margaery said. “You’ll never know what you want until you try it.” Sansa’s face burned but Margaery simply smiled, and they continued walking.

…..

            “You are relieved of your duties as a Kingsguard, Ser Jaime. Please relinquish your white cloak.” Tywin Lannister was sitting in for the king today and the gallery was thankfully sparse. Not everyone in King’s Landing got a front row seat to Jaime’s shame.

            Jaime unhooked his cloak clumsily with only one hand and then ducked out of his armor, which he hadn’t buckled completely so he’d be able to get out of it. He dropped it to the ground with a resounding clang. His eyes were trained on his father just as intently as his father’s eyes were on him.

            “You will be acting Lord of Casterly Rock upon your marriage to Lady Sansa of House Stark,” Tywin said, and Jaime just nodded mutely, not trusting himself to keep his temper in check if he did open his mouth. “Thank you for your years of faithful service to the Crown.”

            Jaime ducked into a bow and turned on his boot heel, ready to storm out, until he saw Sansa Stark watching him quietly, tucking into a shaded part of the gallery. He decided he’d approach his wife-to-be instead.

            “Lady Sansa,” Jaime said, his temper quelled so his voice came out gentler.

            “Ser Jaime,” she said and didn’t lift her eyes to meet his.

            “I don’t suppose I’m actually a knight anymore,” Jaime quipped smartly. His pride was still stinging, but he had no right to take it out on Sansa. “I’m sorry, my lady. I shouldn’t… I’ve lost my manners.”

            “It’s alright,” Sansa said and gave him a wry smile. “A few harsh words are nothing.” She lifted her chin and stared back at him with a sort of defiance that made Jaime’s mouth quirk up. she certainly had spirit like her mother.

            Jaime smiled at her as she gave him a curtsey and then walked off, her red hair swishing behind her.

…..

            Sansa hated all the meetings that had to do with the wedding. She knew that they only brought her in as a curtesy since it was, by technicality alone, her wedding. She was sitting quietly in a meeting with Cersei, Lord Tywin, and Jaime. Lady Olenna had been seeing to arrangements with the dressmaker and for Margaery’s upcoming wedding to Joffrey. Margaery herself had promised to keep Joffrey away from the proceedings, much to Sansa’s relief.

            So Sansa was left to the lions.

            Sansa folded her hands daintily and nodded to Lord Tywin’s suggestions for the decorations and the guest list. Most of the guests were going to be people that she had never met before, and of course none of her family would be able to attend, so Sansa didn’t care at all. But she put on a smile and pretended that she was content.

            “And about the bedding ceremony,” Lord Tywin began and Sansa stiffened. She swallowed thickly and tried not to show her panic, but Cersei’s twisted smile was knowing so Sansa knew she’d failed.

            “There will be no bedding ceremony,” Jaime said calmly.

            “It is tradition,” Tywin said and narrowed his eyes at his eldest son.

            “There will be _no_ bedding ceremony,” Jaime said firmly. “And if anyone lays a finger on my wife, I’m going to break his jaw.”

            Sansa blinked in surprise at Jaime’s protectiveness. Her stomach fluttered at the way that Jaime called her _my wife_.

            Lord Tywin looked at Jaime for a long moment before nodding. “Then there will be no bedding ceremony. Perhaps you and the Lady Sansa will simply slip out of the reception quietly.”

            “That sounds fine to me,” Jaime said and glanced over at Sansa with a small smile.

            They all finished up with the smaller details and Jaime offered his arm to Sansa stiffly. She accepted but she couldn’t help the frown on her face. They didn’t talk as they walked out to the gardens.

            “I… I wanted to tell you,” Jaime said slowly, “that I wanted to have my father return you to your family. I made your mother a promise to protect you and given the circumstances this is the best I think I can do since my father refused.”

            Sansa stopped walking and she dropped her hand from his arm. She opened her mouth to respond but she was cut off by Brienne calling her name. “Excuse me, Ser Jaime,” she said and took the out since it’d come.

            “Lady Sansa,” Brienne said and ducked her head.

            “Lady Brienne,” Sansa said with a soft smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

            “Just Brienne if you don’t mind. I’m hardly a lady,” Brienne said and gestured down to herself. In that moment, she reminded Sansa of Arya. “I hoped that I could speak with you. Alone.” Brienne’s eyes were trained over Sansa’s shoulder and Sansa turned as well to see Jaime still standing there.

            “I’ll leave you two to talk,” Jaime said after a moment. He bowed to them both with his signature smirk on his face, but Sansa didn’t see the spark of mischief that usually lit his eyes.

            She pushed that out of her mind as she turned back to Brienne. “What can I do for you, Brienne?” Sansa asked and moved to sit on one of the stone benches.

            “It’s more what I would like to do for you,” Brienne said and before Sansa could understand what was happening, Brienne was kneeling in front of her. "I will shield your back, and keep your counsel, and give my life for yours if need be. I swear it by the old gods and the new.”

            Sansa blinked as the words made memories of when she’d been young flare up. She fumbled for a moment before she remembered the right response. “And I vow that you shall always have a place by my hearth and meat and mead at my table. I pledge to ask no service of you that may bring you dishonor. I swear it by the old gods and the new. Now… please stand before anyone sees.” Sansa gently tugged on Brienne’s calloused hands and Brienne stumbled for just a moment before she was sitting next to Sansa.

            “I, like Ser Jaime, promised your mother to protect you,” Brienne said somberly. “I hope that I will be able to do that. Even here,” Brienne said as she looked around in disgust.

            “Thank you, Brienne,” Sansa said and she swallowed thickly.

            “Think nothing of it, my lady.” Brienne gave Sansa a small smile. “I should go.”

            Sansa, for a moment, wanted to cling and beg Brienne to tell her more of her mother and ask if Brienne had seen Robb, but she merely nodded coolly and let go of Brienne’s hands. “Until we meet again, then.” Sansa dipped her head and tried not to cry. She listened to Brienne’s retreating footsteps with a heaviness in her heart that made her want to curl up in her bed and never come out again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! I'm posting this chapter, and made it a little longer, because I'm going in for surgery early tomorrow morning so I might not be able to write for a little while (it's not major so no need for concern). Comment and lemme know what you think, and to give me something to read while I recover.  
> -James


	3. Chapter 3

 

            Jaime tugged at his collar with his good hand and tried not to fidget like a child. It was the morning of his wedding to Sansa and while he felt a small bundle of dread in his stomach, he also felt fidgety in anticipation. He wasn’t looking forward to marrying Sansa, with all that entailed, but he thought he could at least get her away from King’s Landing and the torment she’d endured there.

            Jaime had asked Tyrion about it the night before and Tyrion had told him everything to the extent of the youngest Lannister’s considerable knowledge. Jaime had felt sick as Tyrion recounted how Joffrey, Jaime’s own son, had had Sansa beaten and humiliated.

            Jaime fidgeted with his collar and cuffs again before he smoothed down his red and gold doublet. He had one thing he needed to do before he made his way down to the Sept to see if everything was ready for the ceremony.

            Jaime tucked the gift into his pocket before he made his way down the halls to Sansa’s chamber. He swallowed thickly before he hesitantly knocked on the door. He was surprised to see Brienne open the door rather than Sansa’s maid, Shae if he remembered correctly. “Might I see the Lady Sansa?” Jaime asked.

            Brienne closed the door for a moment and then she opened it again to let Jaime enter. Jaime stood just inside the door awkwardly as Brienne closed it and then stood beside Sansa. Jaime could admit to himself that Sansa, dressed in just a simple shift and robe, Shae, in a silk gown of deep pink that Jaime suspected had once been Sansa’s, and Brienne cut an intimidating figure with them clustered together.

            “Lady Sansa,” Jaime said and ducked his head for a moment before cracking a small smile. “I’ve brought you a wedding gift.” Jaime reached into his pocket and pulled out the small necklace that he’d asked his father for. It had been his mother’s and Jaime didn’t have a memory of her where she wasn’t wearing it. It was a gold ring, with glass inside the circle, on a gold chain. Pressed within the glass were small red flowers that grew around Casterly Rock. “I’d like you to wear it, if you want to,” Jaime said and held out the necklace.

            “Thank you,” Sansa said quietly and stepped forward to take the necklace from his hand. Her fingers brushed his and she gave him a small smile.

            There was a long moment where they just were smiling at each other.

            “Was there anything else?” Shae demanded and Sansa turned to look at her sternly.

            Jaime just cracked a grin and shook his head. “I suppose not. I’ll leave you to get ready, my lady.” Jaime dipped into a small bow before he left to head to the Sept and double-check that everything was ready.

…..

            Sansa turned over the necklace in her hand and she could easily say that she liked it. It was simple and, while it was Lannister red and gold, she didn’t feel like she was being marked as property like when Joffrey had given her the lion pendant that was shoved into the back of her jewel box.

            She put the necklace on and touched it lightly before she returned to getting ready. Shae brushed and fixed her hair into a Northern style that Sansa’s mother had favored for her wedding day. Sansa had to blink away tears and swallow around the lump that kept trying to form in her throat. She longed for her mother to be here, but she was glad to have Shae and Brienne.

            Eventually, as Sansa was contemplating her small array of makeup, Margaery came. “Hello, sweet girl!” Margaery chirped and moved to wrap her arms around Sansa’s shoulders. “Don’t you just look a vision?” Margaery smiled at Sansa in the mirror before pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.

            “I’m not even dressed,” Sansa said and flushed.

            “I already know what the dress looks like,” Margaery said and waved her hand. Margaery turned to look at Brienne and Shae. “Would you two mind giving me a moment alone with the bride to be?” Margaery asked with a soft smile. Shae nodded, though she had a suspicious glint in her eyes, and Brienne looked to Sansa.

            “I’ll be fine, Brienne.” Sansa smiled. “Margaery can be trusted.”

            “We’ll be just outside the door, Lady Sansa,” Brienne said before she headed out.

            “Let me do your makeup for you. I’ve been told I’m rather good at it,” Margaery said. Sansa nodded and she turned so that she was facing Margaery fully. Margaery looked at her face for a long time before she picked up the color for Sansa’s eyes. “Close,” Margaery said with an easy authority.

            Sansa’s eyes fluttered shut and for a good long while Margaery worked in silence. “I assume your mother or your septa told you what to expect in the marriage bed,” Margaery said quietly as she worked.

            Sansa felt her cheeks heat up. “They did…”

            “Good,” Margaery said and she gently tipped Sansa’s chin up so she could apply lipstain. “There, now you’re ready.” Sansa opened her eyes and turned to look at herself in the mirror. She looked pretty and more grown-up than she’d thought she could look.

            “Thank you, Margaery.” Sansa’s voice was watery but she blinked away the tears so she wouldn’t ruin her friend’s work.

            “Of course,” Margaery said and she tapped Sansa’s nose. “I just wanted to give you some last pieces of advice.”

            “Please,” Sansa said and took Margaery’s hands. Margaery smiled at her fondly and swiped her thumbs over Sansa’s knuckles.

            “The marriage bed can be unpleasant, but it doesn’t have to be,” Margaery’s smile was coy as she gently tugged on Sansa’s hands. “Our bodies are complicated and pleasing us takes practice. I’m sure Jaime’s had practice.” Sansa had never thought of that. She’d heard the ugly rumors that surrounded her future husband, but she’d also heard the whispers about Robb that she knew to be false. So she’d tried to ignore them, but now they were brought to the forefront of her mind. “He doesn’t seem the kind to be forceful with you, but if he is,” Margaery’s features sharpened into something dangerous, “you tell me and I shall deal with him.”

            Sansa laughed nervously and nodded. “I will. I promise.” Margaery nodded, obviously satisfied, and pressed a kiss to Sansa’s knuckles.

            “Let’s get your maid back in here and get you ready. Everyone’s already starting to go down to the Sept.” Sansa put on a smile to cover the flutter of nerves in her stomach. She would take Margaery’s advice and make the best of this.

            If she could endure Joffrey, the Kingslayer would be child’s play.

…..

            Jaime stood in place in the Sept. He had the Lannister cloak thrown over his arm and the ring for Sansa that his father had insisted on. The Sept was now full and everyone was merely chatting quietly as they waited for Sansa to arrive. The Tyrell matriarch came in first and made her way into the Sept regally as any Queen. Mace Tyrell came in next and stood close to Jaime’s own father. Then Margaery came in, pretty as a picture in her trademark blue gown, with Joffrey on her arm. He kept glancing back over his shoulder and Jaime’s brow furrowed. Margaery gave Jaime a look that cut him as well as any knife. He quickly turned his eyes back toward the back and his breath caught in his throat.

            Framed perfectly in the golden afternoon sunlight was Sansa Stark with Loras Tyrell leading her up the aisle. Her hair was set aflame by the lighting and it contrasted so beautifully with her pale skin and light-colored gown. She glittered as she walked and Jaime could hardly take his eyes off her.

            He quirked a small smile as she and Loras started their journey down the steps and then across the seven pointed star. His father, Tyrion, and Cersei were all standing at the landing just a few steps down from where Jaime stood in front of the septon, and Jaime saw the fury on Cersei’s face, especially when Loras Tyrell dropped Sansa’s arm at the foot of the stairs leading up to where Jaime was, so she could walk up alone and seeming perfectly defiant. He could hear the way the courtiers were murmuring about her Stark maiden cloak, but Jaime wouldn’t have deprived her of it like his sister had suggested. Traitor or no, it was her family.

            Jaime was impressed by the way she carried herself despite the stares and whispers. She had all the regal bearing of the Queen she would now never become. Tyrion smiled brightly at her and she nodded to him, a genuine smile on her face. She nodded to Jaime’s father with respect, and then brushed past where Cersei was quietly seething.

            Jaime had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from snorting a laugh at the shocked look on Cersei’s face.

            Jaime certainly had to admire the audacity of Sansa Stark.

            Then she was standing next to him, as pretty as a song, and the septon was speaking.

            “You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection.” Jaime nodded and they both moved so that Jaime would be able to slip her maiden cloak from her shoulders. Jaime had a bit of trouble keeping hold of the Lannister cloak while also trying to politely not crush her maiden cloak. Eventually, in his fumblings, he dropped her maiden cloak just behind her with a mumbled curse and, not wanting to look any more a fool, he moved to drape the red velvet cloak around Sansa’s shoulders as best he could. She pulled it around herself so it sat properly and then moved to gently move her maiden cloak to the side.

            Jaime thought he saw a light sheen of tears in her eyes as she moved the Stark cloak away from herself.

            After a pause to make sure everyone was settled, the septon continued. “Your Grace, Your Grace, my lords, my ladies, we stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife: one flesh, one heart, one soul… now and forever.” Jaime looked over at Sansa when he heard her breathing hitch. She looked a little panicked around the eyes but she quickly seemed to master herself.

            The rest of the ceremony was quick. The septon bound their hands with a ribbon, they both pledged their love and fidelity to one another, Jaime gave Sansa her ring, and then Jaime hesitated. He should kiss Sansa, but she was staring at him with wide blue eyes and he almost hated himself for the whole thing. He leaned in and brushed a very chaste kiss to her mouth.

            Jaime was honestly very grateful that this part was over. He took Sansa’s hand for a moment and gave it a gentle squeeze before he tugged on her hand to lead them away. Perhaps they’d get a moment’s peace on the way back to the keep.

…..

            Sansa had to thank the old gods and the new for Margaery Tyrell. When they’d arrived at the Sept, Joffrey had been waiting for her. He’d claimed that it was his duty to give her away. Margaery had, with a coy smile and a few batted eyelashes, convinced Joffrey that it was hardly proper for the King to be seen giving away the daughter of a traitor. Sansa had been tense until Joffrey agreed and then waved for Loras to escort her.

            She’d breathed a small sigh of relief as Loras had offered his arm and she’d set her hand in the crook of his elbow. She still wanted to scream and run from the Sept on the inside, but she kept a cool demeanor on the outside even as people started to whisper nastily when she’d walked past with her maiden cloak on full display.

            But she hadn’t cared in the slightest. It was her wedding day and if she wanted her family as there as they could be, she was going to make damn sure they were. Sansa dropped Loras’s arm and made her way alone for the remainder of her journey.

            She smiled at Tyrion, nodded to Lord Tywin, and then brushed past Cersei. The woman was in a foul temper and Sansa had no time. Her nerves were going to get the better of her without Cersei glaring her down like a madwoman.

            Sansa’s eyes finally connected with Jaime’s and she felt her nerves kick up again. He looked rather dashing in his red leather jacket with fine gold embroidery on the shoulders and chest. He had the Lannister cloak draped over his right arm and he gave her a small smile.

            The septon spoke about her cloaking and she turned so Jaime would have an easier time of it. She shrugged off her maiden cloak, though she desperately wanted to cry and snatch it back, screaming that there had been a mistake. She waited as Jaime had difficulty. She glanced over her shoulder when she heard him curse softly under his breath. He’d dropped her cloak and was struggling to open the Lannister one with only one hand.

            She grabbed an edge and pulled it around her shoulders. She fixed it so it sat just so and then bent to move her Stark cloak aside. She truly wished she could bundle it up and keep it forever, but with Cersei’s sour expression, Sansa had a feeling it was going to be burned the moment everyone stepped out of the Sept. Sanctity be damned.

            Sansa’s heart was pounding in her ears so hard she could hardly hear the septon when he spoke. She recited her promise of love and fidelity, while silently sending a prayer to the gods telling them that while she hated to be false it was for good reason, and then she stiffened and waited.

            Jaime was supposed to kiss her.

            She wasn’t sure she wanted him to because that made all of this so very real.

            He was blinking at her, his brow furrowed as if he were confused.

            Then he was leaning in and Sansa was struck by how ruggedly handsome he was. The sunlight had caught his hair and turned it to a shining gold as well as perfectly shadowed his cheekbones and jawline. Sansa had never quite admired how finely his features were sculpted, nor had she ever been close enough to admire the swoop of Jaime’s eyelashes as his eyes closed. Sansa’s eyes fluttered shut as well for a moment as Jaime’s lips pressed to hers in a chaste kiss. She nearly jumped at the slight scrape of his stubble on her skin when he pulled away. Sansa opened her eyes and forced herself to smile at him. He reached for her hand and gave it a small, almost reassuring squeeze. He tugged at her and she ducked to her head to meekly follow after him without paying much attention, unsure what else she was supposed to do.

            It was over and they were alone as they rode back to the Keep, many of the small folk cheering. It made Sansa feel terrible and like a traitor to her family.

            “Lady Sansa, I thought-perhaps-you might like to keep this,” Sansa looked away from the curtains of the litter to see Jaime looking at her sheepishly and holding out her rumpled maiden cloak.

            She hadn’t even noticed him pick it up from the Sept floor.

            She felt her throat get tight. “Only if you would approve of having a traitor’s sigil in your presence, my lord.” She knew how to play this game.

            “Lady Sansa, this is the sigil of your family. If you would like to keep it I would hardly begrudge you this small thing. Besides, I heard you stitched it yourself and I would feel awful to let all the time and thread go to waste.” His smile was small and she could tell he was trying to joke with her to lighten the tense air between them.

            “Thank you, my lord,” Sansa said and took it so it was settled in her lap.

            “Just Jaime please, Lady Sansa.” Jaime’s face twisted up. “We’re married now.”

            “Then you should call me just Sansa as well,” Sansa offered politely.

            “Then so be it,” Jaime said. A silence fell between them like a heavy stone but it was obvious that neither of them could come up with a way to breach it.

…..

            Jaime didn’t like having to stand at the entrance to the reception and greet every single one of the guests there. That was the sort of thing for royal weddings or the weddings of dignitaries where political alliances and such were brokered within a conversation. Jaime didn’t have the head or the patience for it.

            And he didn’t like the stares he was getting, more specifically that his hand was getting.

            Sansa though, she navigated each conversation with ease and grace that Jaime envied greatly. Jaime was surprised to see Oberyn Martell sauntering up with his infamous paramour. “I’d never have thought I would see the day that Jaime Lannister put down the white cloak to get married.” Oberyn was smiling but it was sharp and Jaime’s shoulders tensed. “I suppose your father is very proud.”

            “I suppose he is,” Jaime said and glanced over to where his father was in conversation with Lady Olenna.

            “And such a beautiful bride as well,” Oberyn said and took Sansa’s hand to press a kiss to her hand.

            “Thank you, Lord Oberyn,” Sansa said.

            Oberyn’s paramour leaned in as well to press a kiss to Sansa’s cheek. “Congratulations, Lady Sansa.”

            “Thank you, my lady,” Sansa said.

            “I’m not a lady, sweet child,” Oberyn’s paramour said with a smile. “My name is Ellaria Sand.”

            Sansa’s eyes widened fractionally but she merely nodded. “A pleasure to meet you.”

            Ellaria smiled at Sansa and dipped her head to her before she took Oberyn’s hand and then walked away. Oberyn looked back at Sansa and Jaime and smiled a little. “I don’t know whether anyone has told you, but the Princess Myrcella has arrived at the Keep for her brother’s wedding. She should be around here somewhere. She spoke very highly of you, Lady Sansa.” Oberyn nodded to them both but his eyes caught on Jaime’s.

            Jaime went stiff for a moment but then Oberyn was following after his paramour. It seemed that no one else was coming so Jaime offered Sansa his arm and she took it. “Here we go,” he mumbled mostly to himself.

…..

            Sansa made sure to look as pleased as she didn’t quite feel. She was grateful for the kindness that Jaime had shown her thus far, but she was still braced for it all to change. She wasn’t going to depend on anyone’s kindness to shelter her; she’d protect herself.

            Sansa smiled at everyone as she was forced to greet them. She was smooth and courteous and gracious, as she’d been trained to be. She was genuinely thrilled to hear that Myrcella had traveled all the way from Dorne. Sansa had fond memories of the little princess and hoped they would be close as they had been.

            Tyrion came up and he gave Jaime a sharp grin. “Might I steal away my lovely new sister?” Tyrion asked.

            Jaime glanced at Sansa and then nodded. “Of course. I’ll be around,” Jaime said to Sansa and gestured vaguely. Sansa was almost comforted by the obvious show from Jaime that she was welcome at his side. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of it and she didn’t have time to contemplate it as Tyrion took her hand and lead her away. “There’s someone who is ever so excited to see you.”

            Sansa frowned at Tyrion but then she heard a squeak and she was greeted with the sight of who could only be Princess Myrcella. She’d grown into quite the beauty with long golden curls that were unbound and effortlessly beautiful, glittering green eyes framed by long lashes, freckles dotting her nose no doubt from countless hours spent under the Dornish sun, and a bright smile that softened her features.

Sansa was struck by how different Myrcella looked in just under a year. Myrcella looked very much like Dorne agreed with her.

“Sansa! I’m so happy to see you again!” Myrcella all but threw herself into Sansa’s arms for a warm embrace. “You look absolutely ravishing!” Myrcella pulled back and pressed a light kiss to Sansa’s cheek. “I knew such a gown would suit you.”

“And it’s wonderful to see you again as well,” Sansa said genuinely and held onto Myrcella’s hands. Sansa took in Myrcella’s own gown. The outer layer was made of a gauzy pink material with many a gold embellishment that suited Myrcella perfectly. The gown seemed to not be sewn but more draped and pinned with a plunging neckline that showed off her satiny pink shift and a considerable amount of skin. “Dorne agrees with you.”

“It certainly does,” Myrcella said with a spark of mischief in her eyes that reminded Sansa a little bit of Tyrion, though the twist of her mouth was very much like the expression that Jaime often wore. Sansa’s heart hammered at the thought but she pushed it away quickly. “You _must_ meet Trystane, and you must absolutely love him as I do.” Sansa was perfectly content to be swept up by Myrcella’s enthusiasm. It was nice to have her friend back and see her so blindingly happy. It was refreshing to see anyone happy in these truly awful times.

…..

            Jaime kept to the edges of the party. He talked with Tyrion a little when Tyrion came back from ushering Sansa to Myrcella. Jaime couldn’t help but smile at seeing his new wife with his daughter. Jaime’s chest ached a little at that thought.

            “You certainly have much to be grateful for,” Tyrion said quietly over the rim of his wineglass. Jaime looked over at him with a quirked eyebrow. “Nevermind,” Tyrion said with an eyeroll. “If you’re going to be dense I’m not going to list out everything for you.”

            Jaime opened his mouth to protest at being called dense, but then he felt someone take his arm. He turned, thinking perhaps it was Sansa returning to his side, but it was Cersei. And based on the glazed look on her face, she was well on her way to being drunk.

            “A word, brother dear.” It wasn’t a question with Cersei, it was a demand. Jaime looked over at Tyrion before nodding and following Cersei out towards the balconies that overlooked the Blackwater.

            “What is it?” Jaime asked and shifted on his feet. Cersei studied him for a long time and it made Jaime uncomfortable. “Cersei-” But before he could get anything more out, Cersei’s fists were tangled in his doublet and she was pulling him in for a rough kiss.

            On instinct, Jaime kissed her back but then his mind caught up and he remembered where they were. He pulled away from her and turned his face when she tried to chase his lips. “We can’t. Not here. Not anymore.”

            Cersei blinked at him. “What do you mean?” She demanded, angrily letting go of him.

            “I made a vow,” Jaime said seriously, “to Sansa and to this union. I gave my word.”

            “And since when have you cared much for vows?”

            It stung, and Jaime couldn’t help but flinch. “Cersei, listen to me-”

            “I’m done listening to you. To you, to Father, to everyone. What should we _care_ what anyone else thinks?” Cersei’s anger was quiet and cold and Jaime didn’t understand where it was all coming from.

            “I don’t know what you want me to say,” Jaime said genuinely, completely at a loss.

            “No, you never do,” Cersei’s scorn really cut at him. She’d said hurtful things in the past, of course, but it was usually followed by some soothing words or a kiss that took the sting away. Now she was just staring at him as if he disgusted her. “Go on then, go back to your whore wife and leave me to sort things myself.” Jaime took a step forward, opening his mouth to try and fix whatever it was that he’d obviously broken, but she just glared at him sharply. “I said: go!” Jaime faltered and then he took a breath and left her like she’d asked.

            Jaime didn’t understand why Cersei was suddenly pushing him away, ever since he got back really but especially since Tywin had decided that Jaime was to marry Sansa. He had thought at first that she was jealous, but this wasn’t jealousy. He’d seen Cersei jealous and this was more than that. It was darker. It was uglier.

            Jaime shook his head to try and shake it off. He didn’t want all of that lingering over him. He wanted to at least pretend to be the good son and husband tonight.

            Jaime decided to go and try and find Sansa. And find her he did.

            She was being cornered by Joffrey.

            Jaime hadn’t heard what his repulsive son had said before hand but he caught the last part of Joffrey’s sentence. “That’s alright, Ser Meryn and Ser Boros will hold you down.”

            “Your Grace,” Jaime said with steel under his voice. “I’m terribly sorry but I’m going to have to deprive you of my sweet wife’s company.” Jaime held out his hand for Sansa and she glanced between the two men before all but running to Jaime’s side. “Come along, dear,” Jaime said sweetly as he wrapped his good arm around Sansa’s slim waist. When they were away Jaime turned to her and took her hand. “Did he touch you?”

            “No,” Sansa said shakily, refusing to meet his eyes.

            “Sansa, please,” Jaime said seriously.

            “He didn’t lay a finger on me,” Sansa said and looked up through her lashes at Jaime. “I promise.” Jaime let out a huff of breath and nodded.

            “I won’t let him hurt you. Never again.” Jaime pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before he looked around. He saw Sansa’s maid and gestured for her.

            “Could you have the kitchens bring two plates to our chamber. I think Lady Sansa and I are going to leave.” The maid looked at Sansa for confirmation, which Sansa gave with a weak smile and a nod, before she headed off to do just that. “Come, my lady. Let’s get away from these vultures.”

            He offered Sansa his arm and was relieved when she took it. Their walk was grave and silent and Jaime didn’t mind at all. He was sure that Sansa’s encounter with Joffrey had shaken her. He understood completely. His hand still shook when he imagined Locke’s face.

            “Here we are,” Jaime said, forcing his tone to be light. His and Sansa’s things had been moved to a larger, airier chamber by Tywin’s demand. “Is there anything you’d like, other than perhaps some supper?” Jaime asked, trying to make things better if he could.

            “No, thank you,” Sansa said quietly, her voice cracking.

            Jaime nodded. He moved over to a chair and sat down, not sure what else to do.

            There was a quiet knock and then Sansa’s made came in with two plates. She settled them on the table and then moved over to where Sansa was still standing, nervously wringing her hands.

            “Will there be anything else, my lady?”

            “No, Shae. That will be all.”

            Shae sent Jaime a nearly murderous look and Jaime just frowned a little before the maid turned on her heel and stormed out.

            “She’s protective…” Sansa said nervously.

            “It’s good to know you have someone looking after you,” Jaime said genuinely. “Someone you can trust.”

            Sansa nodded and she moved to sit so she could pick at her supper.

            “What’s wrong?” Jaime asked after he set his fork down, not feeling particularly hungry himself.

            Sansa looked at him, obviously panicked for a moment, before she slipped on a neutral mask. “Nothing, my lord.”

            “Jaime,” he corrected gently before he reached out to cover her hand with his. “Sansa, I want us to at least be able to talk to each other. No secrets, no lies,” Jaime said and he was surprised that he actually meant it.

            “I suppose…” Sansa hesitated and then she took a breath. “I suppose I’m worried about… well…” Sansa’s eyes drifted over to where the bed was.

            Jaime glanced over as well and then he nodded. “I won’t touch you, Sansa.” She turned to look at him, obviously suspicious. “Not unless you ask me to.”

            “And if I never ask you to?” Sansa asked.

            “Then I suppose my father will have to relent and name Tyrion his heir,” Jaime shrugged. “I won’t force myself on you. I wouldn’t force myself on any woman.”

            Sansa’s shoulders relaxed but then they tensed up again. “But what about when they check the bed?”

            “Leave me to figure that out,” Jaime said and gave her hand a squeeze. “Just eat your supper and then we’ll worry about getting you into something more comfortable to sleep in.” Jaime gave her a quick smile before he picked up his fork. He was already thinking about a way to fool everyone into thinking they’d consummated the marriage.

            He glanced at the knife that Shae had brought and then smiled as it came to him. A little nick on his arm would be enough blood to fool everyone.

            Sansa pushed her plate away after a moment and then moved to the vanity in the corner that held all of Sansa’s makeup and hair things. “Can I help?” Jaime asked as Sansa started to pull the pins out of her hair.

            “I can do it on my own,” Sansa said with a soft smile in the mirror.

            Jaime nodded and then moved to strip off his doublet. He wasn’t going to sleep in the stiff leather. He sat on the edge of the bed and just watched Sansa work at getting the pins out of her hair so it would fall loose around her shoulders.

…..

            Sansa shook her hair out once it was all unbound and she sighed in relief to have the tension off her scalp. She flushed when she saw the way Jaime was looking at her through the reflection in the mirror. It made her feel warm and strange.

            She stood from her vanity and felt her face get even hotter as she went to reach for the ties of her gown and realized that with the way they were in the back she couldn’t loosen them without help.

            She bit her lip and then turned to look over at Jaime. “Could you…?” She asked and then bit her lip again.

            “Of course,” Jaime said and made his way over. Sansa turned her back to him and moved her hair out of his way. He easily loosened her gown and then stepped away to give her space to get out of it. She set it aside over a chair and then moved to take her corset off, thankful for the thin shift underneath it.

            She laid that aside as well and then turned to Jaime, her arms crossed over her chest defensively.

            “Come lay down,” Jaime said and patted the side of the bed he wasn’t sitting on.

            Sansa hesitated, her stomach swooping and knotting up at the thought of sharing a bed with Jaime Lannister, but then made her way over and settled. Jaime’s eyes ran over her and she felt hot and cold at the same time.

            “What are you doing?” She asked.

            He grinned. “Measuring.” Sansa frowned but Jaime was moving to grab up one of the knives Shae had brought with their supper. Jaime rolled his shirt sleeve up and nicked a spot near his elbow.

            Sansa watched as he waited for the blood to well up and then moved to wipe his arm off on the sheets near where her hips were.

            “Now everyone will think I did my duty,” Jaime said and then rolled his sleeve back down. With his dark colored shirt, even if there was a smear of blood, no one would ever be able to tell.

            Sansa looked between the smear of blood and Jaime where he was moving to settle into bed, looking extremely weary.

            “Thank you, Jaime,” she said and moved to settle with her back to him. She was thankful of the bed being big enough to put room between them. While she appreciated everything he was doing for her, that didn’t meant she was going to like him.

            She couldn’t.

            He was a Lannister and the enemy of her family.

            She would be loyal to her family while playing the part that Lord Tywin had assigned for her. At least until Robb came and saved her. If Robb came and saved her. She closed her eyes tightly and ignored the way her chest felt tight at the thought of what would happen to her if Robb didn’t come and defeat the Lannisters.

            She wouldn’t think like that.

            Robb would come for her.

            The Starks protected their pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter was a little long, but I figured it'd make a good holiday gift to all of y'all! Thank you to everyone who wished me luck on my surgery. It went really well and while I'm still a little sore, I'm recovering nicely. Thanks for your patience and I hope to have another chapter up soon after the holidays.  
> -James


	4. Chapter 4

            Sansa woke up when the door to their chamber slammed shut. She lifted her head and rubbed at her eyes as she took in Shae stomping into the room with the breakfast tray.

            Jaime groaned and turned over to look at Shae where she was moving to gather a robe for Sansa. “You really should knock,” Jaime grumbled and buried his face back in his pillow. Sansa quirked a small smile before she slipped from bed and let Shae help her into her robe.

            “Did he hurt you?” Shae asked and squinted at where Jaime was still in bed.

            “No,” Sansa said and she wasn’t sure whether or not she should tell Shae about Jaime’s promise to her. He’d gone through the trouble of the ruse and while Sansa trusted Shae with her life, she didn’t want for it to somehow get out. “He was a gentleman.”

            Shae looked Sansa over for a moment and then nodded. “Let me get you a gown ready for today,” she said but before she moved, she gently brushed a lock of Sansa’s hair away from her face. It was such a soft and motherly gesture that Sansa couldn’t help but feel tears pricking at her eyes.

            Then Shae was moving in the familiar way of Sansa’s morning routine. Sansa ate some fruit from her breakfast tray and then nibbled at some of the bread while Shae brushed her hair and plaited it.

            She wasn’t exactly sure what she wanted to do with her day yet.

            She wasn’t sure how exactly her marriage to Jaime changed what she was and wasn’t allowed to do. If it changed anything at all. She glanced over to where Jaime was still sprawled in their bed, but now he was rubbing the sleep from his eyes and watching her and Shae. Sansa tried to will away the heat from her cheeks.

            She turned back to getting ready as Shae came over with a dusky purple gown. Sansa was dressed quickly and she fastened her gown shut herself. She contemplated taking off the necklace that Jaime had given her, but she left it on.

            “I think I’m going to go and take my embroidery out into the gardens,” Sansa said and looked over to Jaime. “If that’s alright with you.”

            “Go ahead,” Jaime mumbled as he slipped from bed and made his way over to the table where breakfast was laid out. “Just… take Brienne with you.” A shadow passed over Jaime’s eyes and Sansa looked at him for a moment before nodding.

            “Alright,” she said and set down the glass of water she’d been sipping. “I’ll see you tonight?”

            “You will,” Jaime said and gave her a small smile.

…..

            Not long after Sansa had gathered up her things and left, a messenger and a maid were at the door. Jaime let the maid in to tidy up the room while the messenger bowed. “The Lord Hand has requested your presence, Lord Jaime.”

            It stung to hear his name without his customary title of ‘ser’. “I’ll be right there.” He needed to shave and dress before he stepped into his father’s presence.

            He shaved as best he could with only one hand, and then he pulled on a clean shirt and breeches before pulling on his typical leather doublet. He shoved his feet into boots and then he was wandering down to meet with his father.

            Lord Tywin was sitting at his desk as usual.

            And as usual, Jaime had to stand and wait for his father to finish whatever it was he was doing before his father would even deign to look at him. Jaime just moved to sit down, a liberty he wouldn’t have taken before.

            “Did you consummate your marriage to Sansa Stark?” Lord Tywin asked at last as he settled his quill down.

            “I did my duty,” Jaime said coolly.

            “Good,” Tywin said and then folded his hands. “Now, given that you can no longer serve as a soldier-” Jaime wanted to protest that fact but he bit his tongue “-I still believe you could be of use as a tactician. Your mind is still intact even if your body is not.”

            “And what would you like from me?” Jaime asked.

            “Your opinion.”

            “On?” Jaime questioned.

            “The Young Wolf, your new brother,” Tywin said with a wry smirk.

            Jaime frowned at his father and shrugged. “He’s a green boy. A good fighter, decent strategist, especially with the advisors that he has behind him who are _not_ green boys, and a noble man much like his father.”

            “Can he be brought back into the fold?”

            “Never. He and the Northerners have too much pride for that. Joffrey took their lord’s head, I doubt they’ll forgive that,” Jaime said. “Think of what the Northerners did when Aerys killed their lord and his heir.”

            Tywin nodded and then he sat back in his chair in thought.

            “There is a plan coming together to have Robb Stark killed. He has a traitor in his army willing to help us execute this plan,” Tywin said slowly. “I thought to present it to the King.”

            “Killing Robb Stark won’t change anything,” Jaime said and shook his head. “It’ll make him a martyr and a more sympathetic figure.”

            “If we don’t kill him, ending his traitorous path down to the capital where he will sack this city, then what do you suggest we do?” Tywin demanded. He obviously thought that there was no other way. But that was where Jaime differed from his father. Jaime knew of things that were worse than death.

            Death of reputation.

            “Capture him,” Jaime said as if it were simple. “Catch him in a moment where his guard is down and make him a prisoner. Without killing him, you’ll be able to force his army to disband and go home, and you’ll have him as leverage to keep the peace in the North. They hardly want what happened to Ned Stark to happen to his son.”

            Tywin narrowed his eyes but after a while he nodded approvingly. “I shall send a raven to our allies and have them change their plan. We will take the Young Wolf and his family.”

            A part of Jaime was relieved that he wasn’t going to have to tell Sansa that more of her family had been killed, and another part of him was relieved that his own family would be safe once the Northern threat was neutralized.

            It was a strange, conflicting feeling that wrapped itself around his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one is a little shorter just because now the story is shifting to include more characters and I didn't want their chapters to be mixed with Jaime and Sansa's story unless they're with Jaime and Sansa.   
> -James


	5. Chapter 5

            Robb had been surprised when Walder Frey accepted his Uncle Edmure in his place. He was surprised and he was wary of it. It didn’t sit right with him in the slightest.

            He was scratching out orders and preparations for his men when Talisa came in and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “You should be resting,” she murmured against the tob of his head.

            “So should you,” Robb said and turned so he could brush his hand fondly where their babe was growing.

            “I have patients to look after. Your men need my help if they’re going to keep on fighting for you,” Talisa pointed out and moved to sit in Robb’s lap.

            “And they’re going to need these plans if they’re to make it home to their families after they’re done fighting,” Robb said and put a hand on her back to steady his wife. She nodded at him and then moved a stray curl from his eyes.

            “You’re worried about the wedding,” Talisa said after looking at Robb’s face for a long moment.

            “I broke my word to Lord Frey and now he’s inviting me into his home. I would have to be a fool to trust him without thinking about his plans,” Robb said quietly and traced his fingers over the map in front of him.

            “Do you really think Lord Frey would attack you? You’ve got an army at your back,” Talisa said, her brow furrowed.

            “I don’t know what Lord Frey intends, and _that’s_ what I don’t like.” Robb sat for a moment longer before he gently pushed at Talisa to get up from his lap. “But I suppose tomorrow is another day to think about Lord Frey. Now, I think I’ll get some sleep.”

            “I like the sound of that,” Talisa said and tugged Robb toward their bed.

            Talisa’s nimble fingers helped Robb out of his armor and doublet before she leaned in to kiss Robb softly. Robb cradled her face between his hands before they parted and turned down their camp bed.

            “You worry too much,” Talisa said after they’d blown out the candles and settled into bed.

            “I hope so,” Robb said. He’d rather be thinking too critically and not lost anything than to trust blindly and have it blow up in his face.  

…..

            Arya could honestly say that she hated travelling with the Hound. Not only did he used to be Joffrey’s pet, and that made her hate him, but he was obnoxious and he didn’t care for anyone or anything.

            But he said he was taking her to her mother and Robb and that’s all that she wanted. They would take her home and she would see Bran and Rickon again. Her heart ached for it but she shoved that feeling down because right now she was stuck with the Hound.

            And Gendry.

            She looked over at him and felt a short flutter in her chest that she shoved down as well. She looked out over the field and saw the Twins. She felt a flicker of hope as she looked out and saw the faint lines of smoke rising up from what was no doubt Robb’s camp.

            “Don’t worry, they’re still there,” Gendry said from where he’d stepped up to stand next to her, knocking his arm into her shoulder.

            She glared at him. “I know they’re still there, stupid.”

            “You check every five minutes,” the Hound cut in irritably from where he was rooting through the cart they’d stolen. “Like you’re afraid they’re going to move.”

            “I’m _not_ afraid!” Arya hissed and turned to glower back over at the Twins, not wanting to look at the Hound anymore.

            “Of course you are.” The Hound let out a humorless laugh. “You’re almost there and you’re afraid you won’t make it. Closest you’ve been to family since Ilyn Payne snipped your daddy’s neck.”

            Arya whirled around and stalked toward the Hound. Gendry grabbed at her to stop her but she swatted his hands away. “Someday,” Arya said calmly, too calmly, “I’m going to put a sword through your eye and out the back of your skull.” The Hound looked a little perturbed but then Arya was stalking back toward where she could see the Twins and Robb’s encampment.

            “You shouldn’t talk to him like that,” Gendry mumbled once he was back at her side. “He’s got you this far.”

            “ _You_ got me farther than he ever has,” Arya muttered darkly and nodded toward where the Hound was standing.

            “Not the point.” Gendry sighed. “Just a few more hours.” Gendry set his hand between her shoulders and Arya relaxed a little. Gendry looped his arm around and tugged her into his side protectively. “We’ll get there.”

            “We’ll get there,” Arya repeated and leaned her head against Gendry’s shoulder for a moment before she pulled away. She glanced over to the Twins one last time before they got moving again and she couldn’t see it because of the trees.

…..

            Robb prided himself on keeping an even temper. Even in the heat of battle, he’d hardly ever let his emotions control him.

            With Walder Frey though, Robb wanted to make an exception.

            Robb didn’t mind so much when Lord Frey made him apologize to the Frey girls. In Robb’s opinion, that was the honorable thing to do since it was true that he had snubbed them in a terrible way.

            What was too far was when Lord Frey started to talk about Talisa, Robb’s own wife, like she was a piece of meat. Catelyn had to hold Robb back from protesting, or worse retaliating, against Lord Frey. He’d kept his tongue and he’d escorted his wife away so that they could prepare for the ceremony.

            Robb was fastening up his wedding clothes when he came out to see Talia unchanged. “What is it, love?” Robb asked and moved to where Talisa was sitting at a borrowed vanity. “Did what Walder Frey said bother you?” Robb’s hands itched for his sword but Talisa shaking her head brought him back to the moment.

            “I’ve no finery to wear. Quite laughable for a Queen,” Talisa said with a smile.

            “You need no finery,” Robb said and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “But once this war is over, if you want, I’ll give you the finest silks and jewels to be your own.”

            Talisa wrinkled her nose and shook her head at her husband. “I wouldn’t want that.”

            “What would you want?” Robb asked.

            “I have everything I could want,” Talisa ducked her head and Robb knew she was smiling. His chest felt warm and he couldn’t believe how in love he was. “Now go on, I’m at least going to fix my hair for this wedding.” Robb pulled away reluctantly when she gently shoved at his chest.

            He was still beaming like a boy when they walked down into the hall, her hand delicately placed in the crook of his arm.

            When the bride was escorted in, Robb had to admit that he thought the veil was to hide her until it was too late for Edmure to protest. But, Roslin Frey was very lovely. He could say that he was pleased for his Uncle Edmure that he would have a pretty bride like he wanted since he had been so bitterly against the match, and another part of him wondered if Lord Frey would have married Robb to the same daughter. It didn’t do to dwell on the what-ifs, especially not since he was perfectly happy with the wife he had.

There were speeches at the feast before poor petrified Roslin and Edmure were being whisked away in the bedding ceremony.

            “ _That_ is a very strange custom,” Talisa said with wide eyes as she propped her chin on Robb’s shoulder.

            “I suppose it does seem strange from a foreigner’s perspective,” Robb said, looking at where his uncle and new aunt had just left.

            “It seems normal to you?” Talisa asked.

            Robb looked over at where she’d pulled away from him. He shrugged a little, with a smile tugging at his mouth. “It’s tradition.” She stared at him blankly so Robb continued. “Without the bedding ceremony there’s no real proof that the lord and lady consummated their marriage.”

            Talisa laughed at him, but it didn’t irk Robb like when others did it. “Oh, but there are other ways of providing proof,” Talisa said with a smirk as she took Robb’s hand and brought it up to cover the small bump that was hidden by her loose dress.

            “Boy or girl?” Robb asked. He knew there was no way to tell, but he did wonder what his wife would prefer.

            Talisa gave him a small, almost shy, smile. “I don’t know. But… if it’s a boy, I know what we should name him.”

            Robb blinked and then cracked a grin. “Oh do you?” Talisa nodded. “It seems to me that the father should have some say in his son’s naming.”

            “Eddard,” Talisa said, her eyes catching Robb’s.

            The smile slipped from Robb’s face and he truly felt like he didn’t deserve the beautiful, intelligent woman in front of him.

            “Don’t you want to teach Ned Stark how to ride horses?” By the smile on her face, Robb knew that Talisa knew the answer before she’d even asked the question.

            “I do,” Robb said and leaned in to kiss Talisa softly. She smoothed her hands over his doublet and he brushed their noses together after he’d broken their kiss. Robb broke away from her so that he could check on his men scattered about the room. They all seemed in finer spirits than Robb had seen them in a long time.

            Walder Frey raised his hand to cut everyone off and Robb turned to look at him with a confused expression. “Your Grace,” Lord Frey said with smile, “I feel I’ve been remiss in my duties. I’ve given you meat, wine, and music, but I haven’t shown you the hospitality you deserve. My king has married and I owe my new queen a wedding gift.”

            “Robb!” Robb turned his head to see his mother standing there and then Lord Bolton was running off, grabbing Talisa from her chair, and twisting her arm violently behind her back. Robb looked up to where the musicians had been to see a row of crossbows pointed at him.

            “What is the meaning of this, Lord Frey?!” Robb demanded.

            “The Lannisters send their regards.” Robb turned to see Lord Bolton standing there, Talisa now in the hands of one of the Frey men, and then he was struck hard in the head and everything went dark.

…..

            Arya and Gendry broke away from the Hound when the Freys tried to turn them away. It was easy for Arya to slip by unnoticed, but Gendry was a little more easily spotted. That’s why Arya was grateful when they ducked under cover and Gendry was hidden from view.

            “Stay down!” Arya hissed and she poked her head up to see where Grey Wind was banging hard against the doors to the pen they’d locked him in. “Grey Wind,” she said softly and she wanted to run over and let him run free, but then the pen was being surrounded by Frey men. A moment before it happened, Arya felt a pang of loss.

            The Frey men let loose the crossbow bolts and Grey Wind hit the ground with a dull thud and a whimper.

            “No,” Arya whispered, feeling the blood drain from her face. She swayed a little in place and Gendry grabbed her arm and pulled her down before she collapsed. “He’s gone.”

            “Who? What’s going on?” Gendry asked and flicked his eyes over to where Arya had been looking.

            “Grey Wind.”

            “Your brother’s wolf?”

            “He’s dead. They killed him.” Arya felt tears pricking at her eyes. If they killed Grey Wind, they’d probably killed Robb as well. Robb and her mother.

            “We need to get away from here. Away from the Twins, away from the Hound,” Gendry said and tugged on her sleeve. Arya heard it but she felt rooted to the spot. “Arry, please!” Gendry said urgently and he tugged at her hand now to try and pull her away. Arya nodded numbly and let Gendry pull her away amidst all the chaos. The world felt like it was spinning.

            Arya truly wanted to scream as they made their way towards two horses that were tied nearby.

            Gendry’s grip on her dropped and she turned to see him lying in the dirt, the Hound standing over him.

            “I’m going to get him up but if you try to run you’ll get the same,” the Hound grumbled before lifting Gendry up and tossing him over the back of one of the saddles. It made Arya sick to see Gendry prone like that, like the butcher’s boy had been after the Hound rode him down. Arya moved to pull herself into that saddle before the Hound could.

            The Hound tied her horse to his and together they rode out of the bloodbath. Robb’s men were being cut down like grass and Arya could smell the blood even after they’d gotten away.

            “Now where are you taking us?” Arya asked bitterly.

            “I’ll take this one,” the Hound said and nodded jerkily to Gendry, “to his uncle, Stannis, and see how much the old shit will pay for him. Then I’ll take you up North. See if there’s anyone in Winterfell who’ll pay for you, and if not there, to the Wall where your bastard brother might pay.”

            Arya didn’t tell the Hound that Jon wouldn’t have any money. It should have been obvious, but if the Hound was that stupid, he’d take her to Jon and that was good enough for her. Arya sighed heavily and settled into her saddle, checking on Gendry every so often to make sure he didn’t fall and break his stupid neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this isn't Sansa and Jaime, but this part of the story needed to be told before I could move on. And just so y'all know, I tried to think of everything to save Grey Wind, but I couldn't come up with a way that made sense! So I'm sorry that he's still gone, but hey, at least Robb, Catelyn, and Talisa are still alive!  
> -James


	6. Chapter 6

            In the time following their wedding, Jaime and Sansa had fallen into a bit of a routine that already centered around each other. They would wake up, break their fast, and get ready for the day together. They would usually discuss what their plans were, just to have something nice and neutral to talk about, and then go do them. Sometime during the afternoon they’d walk together in the gardens or Jaime would read a book while Sansa stitched. Then they’d head back to their chamber together, have their supper, and then they’d go to bed.

            For Jaime, it was comforting to have a routine. He’d had one as a soldier and to have another gave his life structure.

            He didn’t have any idea how it affected Sansa because she could be completely placid at times. Jaime knew it was an act that she’d used to keep herself alive in King’s Landing for so long, but a part of him wished she’d open up, even just a fraction.

            Jaime told Tyrion the same thing as they were sitting on the pier just watching the ships rolling by.

            “She doesn’t trust you, she doesn’t have a reason to trust you,” Tyrion said with a shrug. “Give her time, and give her your patience.”

            Jaime sighed heavily and nodded.

            He was about to slip back into his thoughts when they both heard the swish of skirts behind them. Jaime turned, expecting Sansa, and was surprised to see Myrcella standing there with a bright smile.

            “I’ve been looking for you, Uncle Jaime,” Myrcella said and smoothed out her dress. “Sansa said I might find you down here.”

            “Did she now?” Jaime asked with a small smile.

            “She said you spend a lot of time down here with Uncle Tyrion.” Jaime was a little touched that Sansa had noticed such a small detail of Jaime’s life. “Might I speak with you, in private?” She sent a sheepish smile to Tyrion who merely nodded.

            “We’ll have plenty of time to talk,” Tyrion said and clapped Jaime on the shoulder before he took his leave of them.

            Myrcella walked over and pulled her skirts up to her knees and took of her shoes so she could sit and dangle her feet into the water.

            Jaime wasn’t exactly sure what to say to her. Cersei had hardly ever allowed Jaime around their children, but she was especially protective around Myrcella. “Trystane seems like a nice boy,” Jaime said. He’d talked to the Dornish prince a few times in passing since his wedding. “You’re lucky,” Jaime said and glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “Arranged marriages are rarely so… so well arranged.”

            “You and Sansa seem happy,” Myrcella said and bumped his shoulder with hers.

            “She’s a sweet girl,” Jaime said, deflecting a little.

            There was a nice little moment of light silence between them. “There’s something I want to tell you,” Myrcella said and twisted her skirt in her hands. She let them drop and turned so face Jaime full-on. She reached over and took his hand in hers, swiping her delicate thumb over the ridges of his knuckles. “I know-” she said softly and looked up through her lashes at Jaime, “-about you and Mother. I think a part of me always knew.” Jaime tensed, and he swallowed thickly. “And I’m glad that you’re my father.” Myrcella tucked her head under Jaime’s chin and hugged him tightly.

            Jaime’s blood was thundering through his ears as he took in what Myrcella had said. She knew that he was her father, and she was happy about it. Jaime hesitantly wrapped his arms around her shoulders and when she gave him a squeeze. He pressed his cheek to the top of her head.

            She pulled back with such a bright smile that Jaime couldn’t help but smile back at her.

            “No one else can know, Myrcella,” Jaime said quietly.

            “I know, but I just wanted you to know that I knew… and that I love you.” Myrcella was too good, Jaime thought. She was too good and too kind and this world they lived in was going to tear her apart.

            “And I love you,” Jaime said, his voice coming out like he’d had all the air knocked from his lungs.

            “I hope that Mother will like Trystane,” Myrcella said, changing the subject. “I know she was against the match when Uncle Tyrion arranged it, but I’m happy with him, with living in Dorne.”

            “Then she’ll be happy to see you happy,” Jaime assured.

            Myrcella shrugged and played with the golden bracelet she wore. “Maybe.”

            “Don’t worry about your mother,” Jaime assured and he smoothed some hair away from Myrcella’s eyes. “Just do what makes _you_ happy.”

            Myrcella nodded and they watched the ocean and the ships for a little while longer. “I should go. Mother is having a new gown made for Joff’s wedding.” Myrcella rolled her eyes. “She says she won’t have me looking like a Dornish whore at my brother’s wedding.”

            “She said that to you?” Jaime asked, shocked that Cersei would be so crass with her only daughter.

            Myrcella shrugged.

            “She shouldn’t have, your dresses are perfectly fine.” For Jaime they were a tad on the revealing side, but he was just a protective father that didn’t want every man in Westeros gawking at his young daughter.

            Myrcella’s eyes sparked and then she nodded. “Thank you, Uncle Jaime. You’ve just given me the most brilliant idea.” She kissed his cheek and then scrambled up. She put her feet into her slippers and took off, her skirt streaming behind her in her excitement.

            Jaime smiled to himself as he watched her go.

…..

            Sansa had come to hate getting a new gown. When she’d been a child, before she could do it herself, her mother had made her clothes and Sansa had loved it. Her mother spent countless hours making something for her and Sansa would always wear it with pride. As Sansa grew, her mother helped her learn to create and then let Sansa do it herself. Then it was a matter of pride, she could look at each dress and know that she’d made something beautiful with her own hands. It wasn’t until she’d come South and realized none of her gowns were in fashion that she’d begged her father to go to a professional dressmaker.

            She’d been so thrilled for the first few gowns, but then her Father had been executed and she felt like everything she did put her into debt with the Lannisters. It had scared her when Cersei insisted that she needed a new dress or a new piece of jewelry. It felt like Sansa was waiting for the catch that came with the objects.

            So when Jaime had asked her if she’d wanted a new gown, she’d tried to politely refuse. “I have plenty of gowns, thank you,” Sansa had said and gestured to the gowns that were in her wardrobe.

            Jaime had gone over and looked at them. “Some of these look as though they’d hardly fit, and the others are so plain.” Jaime looked over at her with understanding in his face that made Sansa shift uncomfortably.

            She’d worn ill-fitting or plain gowns so that she could hide. No flashy ornamentation to bring attention to herself, and if she hid under the fabric she wouldn’t have to see the way men’s eyes would sometimes hungrily follow after her. It made her feel sick. Especially after… Sansa snapped out of that memory before it could suck her in.

            “Sansa, it’s not as if we can’t afford to have new gowns made,” Jaime said and moved to sit across from her.

            Sansa nodded and looked down at her hands, twisting her wedding ring around her finger.

            “Sansa… is something wrong?” Jaime asked quietly, brushing his fingers against hers.

            Sansa looked up at him and bit her lip. She wasn’t sure whether she could trust him or not. He seemed to care, and Tyrion trusted him, but Sansa knew that he and the Queen were close. She didn’t want him saying anything to Cersei about her.

            “I’m…” She hesitated. She was going to say ‘I’m fine’ but looking into Jaime’s eyes she couldn’t bring herself to lie. “I don’t particularly like new gowns because I feel like there’s a catch.” She flicked her eyes down to where Jaime was resting his wrists, one real and one gold, on his knees. “I don’t want to be the center of attention. It never turns out well.”

            She could feel Jaime’s eyes on her face and she felt hot all over with embarrassment at admitting such a childish fear.

            “There’s no catch, Sansa,” Jaime said. Sansa’s eyes flew up to his face again. “I just thought that yours were getting a little older now and that you might like a new one. Myrcella is getting one. I could ask her if she would go with you if you’d rather not go alone. I’m sure she’d love to help you choose one.”

            Sansa’s chest fluttered a little at the warm smile he was giving her and the consideration in his offer. “Thank you, I’d like that very much if it’s not too much trouble.”

            “No trouble at all,” Jaime said and let their fingers brush again before he stood. “I know for a fact Myrcella is having the dressmaker come up later in the afternoon before supper. Would you like me to take you there?”

            “You don’t have to,” Sansa insisted.

            “I know I don’t, but I’d like to,” Jaime offered.

            Sansa searched his eyes, looking for the malicious glint that usually colored Cersei’s whenever she showed Sansa a small bit of kindness, but she didn’t find anything to suggest he was being dishonest. “I’d like that too.” She smiled at him.

…..

            Jaime found Sansa later in the gardens, playing cyvasse with Margaery. Margaery who was laughing brightly and making Sansa laugh as well.

            Sansa was very beautiful when she laughed so openly like that.

            Jaime desperately, in that moment, wanted to make her laugh like that. To be able to bring her that kind of joy. He waited, not wanting to break the moment, but Margaery’s eyes flicked up and landed right on him.

            “Lord Jaime!” Margaery called with a bright smile and a spark in her eye. “Have you been spying on us?” Margaery grinned at Sansa as she whipped around to stare wide-eyed at Jaime.

            “I’ve just come to escort my wife to the dressmaker,” Jaime said and held up his hands. “I can always arrange for another time if you’re prefer, my lady.”

            “Oh no,” Sansa said and shook her head. “It’s quite alright. We were hardly even playing anymore.” Sansa gathered her skirts and stood up, giving Margaery one last fleeting smile, before she turned to Jaime with a mask of politeness. “Shall we, my lord?”

            “Lady Margaery,” Jaime said and nodded to her.

            “My lord,” she said and dipped her head, giving Sansa a coy smile.

            “I’ve told Myrcella we’re coming and she’s thrilled to help you pick out a new gown,” Jaime said as they walked, Sansa’s arm nestled in his.

            “I’m glad,” Sansa said though her eyes looked at cool and neutral as ever.

            They arrived at Myrcella’s chambers and Jaime leaned in to knock on the door. Myrcella’s smiling face was what greeted them. “Sansa! I’m so glad you’re getting a new gown. I’ve got some ideas already on what would suit you perfectly. Go on, Uncle Jaime. This is my area of expertise,” Myrcella said and shooed Jaime off like an errant child.

            “I can come for you if you’d like?” Jaime asked before Myrcella could take his wife away.

            “I’ll be alright on my own, thank you, Jaime.” Sansa gave him a small smile, genuine as best Jaime could tell. Jaime nodded and gave them both a smile.

            “Have fun,” he said and waved to them before he left. He’d find Tyrion and maybe they could come up with a plan to make Sansa’s life a little better.

…..

            Myrcella was a bubble of exuberance that was refreshing to Sansa. Everyone in King’s Landing faked the same enthusiasm but it was obvious that it was all an act to make them seem pleasant and pliant to the Crown. But Myrcella’s was real. She’d flourished in Dorne.

            “I had the dressmaker draw up some designs that I think you might like,” Myrcella said and lead Sansa over to the table where there were some drawings of potential dresses. “I think this one would suit you.” Myrcella pointed out a design and Sansa tilted her head to look at it properly.

            “It’s very pretty,” Sansa said.

            “And I think I have just the material for you,” Myrcella said with a smirk that reminded Sansa a lot of Jaime. Sansa gave Myrcella a wary look but decided she’d trust the younger girl.

            “I trust your good taste,” Sansa said and Myrcella looked thrilled as she moved to speak to the dressmaker about the design and the fabrics she’d obviously been thinking about for a while. She must have been formulating since Jaime told her.

            Sansa took a deep breath and tried not to think too hard on the dress, it’s cost, or the occasion she was going to have to wear it for.

            It was pleasant to have Myrcella there to assuage any of the lingering ugliness from Sansa’s head. Myrcella’s bright, easy smiles and gentle nature made Sansa feel almost as if this could be normal. It was refreshing.

            They were standing at a table of fabrics, Sansa helping to find fabrics for Myrcella’s daringly designed dress, when there was another knock. They both looked up to see Jaime standing there with a small smile on his face. “I know you said I didn’t have to come back, but…” Jaime rubbed the back of his neck and Sansa felt a small smile tugging at her lips without her permission.

            “We’re almost done, Uncle Jaime. You’re welcome to sit down while we finish up,” Myrcella said and waved him to a chair that wasn’t covered in dress things.

            He nodded and settled, seemingly content to watch Myrcella flit around and Sansa trail after her. Sansa thanked the dressmaker once the work was completed. She moved over to where Jaime was sitting, looking out the window that overlooked the Blackwater.

            “All ready?” He asked, lazily turning his head to smile at her.

            Sansa nodded mutely, her cheeks flaming a little at how effortlessly handsome Jaime looked in the light that slanted through Myrcella’s window. “Yes, thank you,” Sansa forced herself to get out.

            “Do you like it?” Jaime asked, nodding toward the tables where dress things were piled up.

            “Myrcella knew what I wanted before I did,” Sansa confirmed.

            “She does have a talent for that,” Jaime said and Sansa saw a touch of pride and wistfulness in his eyes. She hated it, but the rumors came to the forefront of her mind in that moment. “We should go,” Jaime said, breaking Sansa out of her thoughts.

            “Then let’s,” Sansa said and waited for him to stand and start towards the door. “Thank you, Myrcella!” Sansa called from the doorway.

            “It was a pleasure, Sansa. And if you ever need a dress like mine from Dorne…” Myrcella trailed off and looked at Sansa meaningfully, making Sansa blush.

            “Thank you, Myrcella,” Sansa said.

            When she turned back to Jaime, he had a look like his interest had been piqued, making Sansa’s blush burn her cheeks hotter. She could hardly imagine herself in the style of dresses that Dornish women wore. They were all plunging necklines and gauzy fabrics that, in the light, were transparent. She’d never be able to wear such a thing without feeling her cheeks burning. But it seemed Jaime was interested.

            She pushed that thought from her head immediately.

            She didn’t care what Jaime thought about how she’d look in a Dornish dress.

            Not in the least.

            No, definitely not…

            Well… perhaps maybe a little?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there were some good moments in this one I think. Some moments with Jaime and Myrcella, some moments with Myrcella and Sansa, and perhaps now Sansa is starting to warm up to our Lion of Lannister ;)  
> -James


	7. Chapter 7

            Sansa had sent Brienne away as she’d wanted to be alone for her prayers. She wasn’t really sure what she prayed for, she wasn’t sure it was really praying at all. She knelt like she was in prayer, she closed her eyes like she was in prayer, but all she did was thinking about her situation and the best way to try and get out of it.

            But today her mind was quiet. She didn’t feel panicked and trapped as she had before. She still felt like a prisoner, but she felt more secure. Jaime had done everything he could, without a word having to be spoken between them, to keep Joffrey away from her and to keep Cersei’s attention on the wedding. She greatly appreciated not having to feel as though she was always bracing for a blow.

            She heard some rustling and she looked up but didn’t see anyone or anything. She chewed her lip and decided that she should head back up into the Keep. She wanted to check on a few things for the wedding the next day before it got too late.

            She brushed off her skirts and then started to make her way toward the Keep, but she heard someone following her. Suddenly, she wished she hadn’t sent Brienne away. The other woman at her side had been a comfort.

            Her heart thrummed with panic as she imagined Joffrey following her. She wasn’t paying attention to the paths she was taking as she all but sprinted up the path. She found herself in a walled-in courtyard and she wanted to cry right then and there. She felt a hand fall on her shoulder and she whipped around and nearly shrieked from fear.

            The man who had been following her stumbled back, his finger pressed against his lips. “It’s alright, it’s alright,” he slurred a little. His steps were unsteady as he took a small step forward, swaying dangerously.

            “You’re drunk,” Sansa said, a little bit of her fear lingering in her voice.

            “Yes,” he said and nodded, his eyes suddenly turning very sad. “I have good reason to be. Once I was a knight, and now I’m only a fool.” His brow furrowed. “Don’t you know me?”

            Sansa looked his face over and now that her blind panic had subsided she did know him. “Ser Dontos,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief. “The King’s name day celebration… I’m sorry I should have remembered.”

            “I can’t accept your apology.” Sansa’s smile fell. He continued. “I may be a fool, but I’m a living fool… thanks to you.”

            “Anyone would have done the same,” Sansa said. She didn’t believe it in the slightest, but she wasn’t sure what to do with this man’s obvious gratitude.

            “But only _you_ did.” He smiled. “I can never repay you. You gave me my life. But… this, this is worth more than my life,” Ser Dontos said and he reached into the bag at his belt and pulled out a necklace. He held it out for her to take and she did. “It belonged to my mother, and her mother before her. House Hollard was strong once,” he said, his voice slipping into sadness again. “A house on the rise… that’s all that’s left of those days thanks to a few sad, fat drunks like me.”

            Sansa looked at the delicate silver work and the pretty blue gems. “I can’t take it,” she said softly. She couldn’t take the last heirloom of his house from him. “It’s very, very kind of you, but I can’t.”

            “I don’t have anything else left,” Ser Dontos said. “That’s all. Take it, wear it, let my name have one more moment in the sun before it disappears from the world.”

            Sansa considered and then she gave him a small smile. “I’ll wear it with pride, Ser Dontos.”

            He smiled at that as she slipped it into her pocket. He bowed to her and then walked off. Sansa gathered up her skirts and trudged her way back to the main path so she could make her way back to the Keep. She turned a corner and jumped out of her skin, a gasp ripped from her throat, as Jaime and Brienne were right in front of her.

            “There you are,” Jaime said and he looked concerned. “Brienne thought you’d be back in our chamber and came to make sure you were alright. We came looking for you.” Jaime looked her over and touched her arm. “Are you alright? Did anyone-”

            “I’m fine,” Sansa said and gave him a weak smile. “I just got lost is all. I was thinking and wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.” It wasn’t completely a lie.

            Jaime looked at her for a moment longer, his lips pressed together in worry, but then he nodded. “We’ve found you and that’s all that matters.”

            “I’m sorry if I worried you,” Sansa said as they made their way back to the Keep. “I didn’t mean to.”

            “I know you didn’t,” Jaime said and set his hand onto the small of her back. “It’s alright.” He gave her a small, uneasy smile. When they were closer to the Red Keep, Jaime stopped and turned to Brienne. “If I could have a moment alone with my wife.” Brienne looked to Sansa, something like pity in her eyes, and nodded.

            “My lord, my lady,” Brienne said before taking her leave.

            “What is it?” Sansa asked and blinked up at Jaime.

            “Why don’t we sit?” Jaime asked and moved to one of the stone benches. Sansa’s heart was beating against her chest rapidly as she sat, smoothing her skirts. “I want you to know that you are safe and that nothing bad is going to happen.”

            Sansa’s heart felt like it stopped. “What’s going on?” She asked shakily.

            “I thought you should hear it from me before anyone else,” Jaime said. “It’s about your mother and brother. They’ve been taken prisoner at the Twins. They’re both unharmed,” Jaime hastened to say. “They’re to be held there until after the King’s wedding.”

            Sansa clutched at Jaime’s sleeve, feeling a bit faint.

            “And what…” Sansa stopped, swallowing down the sick feeling in her stomach, “what does the King plan to do with them?”

            “I don’t know,” Jaime admitted, his golden hand coming to cover Sansa’s. The metal was cold on her skin. “But I promise I will do everything in my power to help them.” Sansa’s watery eyes flicked up to Jaime’s and she was surprised to see how genuine he was.

            “You will?” She asked breathlessly.

            “I will,” Jaime said. They sat for a moment while Sansa caught her breath and swiped at the tears on her cheeks. “Now, I believe there’s a pre-wedding supper we’re obliged to attend.” Jaime pulled a face, obviously displeased about the whole thing, and held out his hand for her once he’d stood.

            Sansa nodded meekly and took his hand. Jaime’s left hand had the start of callouses on his palm that were rough against Sansa’s hand. It grounded her, somehow, and he gave her hand a squeeze before dropping it and then they dropped their touch and walked up to their chambers in silence.

…..

            Jaime hadn’t wanted to tell Sansa about her family’s capture, but he knew that he didn’t want it to come from someone else, someone who would take a sick amount of pleasure from Sansa’s distress. Someone like his sister or his eldest son.

            So he’d told her, and he wasn’t sure where the promise had come from. He’d always thought he’d put his House above anything else, but he knew, in his heart, that he would do anything to keep that promise to Sansa.

            He changed into a clean doublet as Shae helped Sansa fix her hair and change into a nicer dress, a pretty gown in a dusty purple. Jaime took a moment to admire the way she looked in the dying light. Her hair shone copper and her usually fair skin was golden.

            “Shall we?” Jaime asked once she’d stood from her vanity.

            She slipped her arm through his and ran her thumb over his bicep. “I think we’re ready.”

            The use of _we_ made Jaime’s stomach flip like he was a young boy again. He very much liked the sound of _we_ when it fell from Sansa’s lips. It sounded very different than the way Cersei said it. Cersei said it like it meant possession, that she owned Jaime, body and soul. When Sansa said it, it felt more like a union.

            Jaime pushed that thought away as they stepped out in the garden where the feast was to be held. It was only House Tyrell and House Lannister in attendance, but that was still a considerable number of people.

            Joffrey and Margaery were in the middle of the table with Tywin seated directly next to Joffrey, Cersei next to Tywin, Tommen and Myrcella next to their mother, and Tyrion on the far end on Margaery’s side. Two seats were open next to Margaery, presumably for Jaime and Sansa to sit in. Jaime wanted to curse a blue streak when his father gestured for he and Sansa to sit at the head table.

            He sat next to Tyrion so that Sansa could settle herself next to Margaery. The two ladies smiled at each other brightly before Margaery pulled Sansa into a hushed conversation. Jaime left the girls to it and turned to Tyrion.

            Soon it was time to present the young royal couple with their wedding gifts. Mace Tyrell gifted them with a golden chalice decorated with all the sigils of the great Houses.  Joffrey was charming and Jaime could hardly believe that this was the same little shit that had had his wife stripped and beaten in the throne room.

            Next, Podrick, Tyrion’s squire, came up and settled a large book in front of Joffrey.

            “A book?” Joffrey questioned, clearly unimpressed, as Tyrion came around to stand in front of the table.

            “ _The Lives of Four Kings_ ,” Tyrion said, trying for a smile. “Grand Maester Kaeth’s history of the reigns of Daeron the Young Dragon, Baelor the Blessed, Aegon the Unworthy, and Daeron the Good. A book every king should read.” Tyrion looked tired and resigned to whatever vile things were no doubt about to spill from the King’s mouth.

            Sansa sucked in a shaky breath and grabbed Jaime’s sleeve. Jaime was surprised at the action but didn’t move for fear she’d let go.

            There was a long silence where Joffrey just looked between Tyrion, the book, Margaery, and his grandfather.

            “Now that the war is won,” Joffrey started, “we should all find time for wisdom. Thank you, uncle.” It was said so sincerely that Tyrion narrowed his eyes a little, waiting for the catch. When it didn’t come, Tyrion merely bowed and went back to his seat.

            A Kingsguard came up, a sword between his hands, and bowed before settling the sword on the table.

            Tywin stood. “One of only two Valyrian steel swords in the capital, Your Grace,” Tywin said with pride. “Freshly forged in your honor from Ned Stark’s blade. A House that commits treason twice over doesn’t deserve such a fine weapon.”

            Jaime felt sick. No matter what Ned or Robb Stark had done, they didn’t deserve to have their ancestral sword stripped from them. He clenched his hand under the table and he looked at Sansa who looked ready to faint again.

            Joffrey was gleefully running around the table to inspect his new blade. He pulled t from the sheath with a ring that only Valyrian steel could ever make.

            “Careful, Your Grace,” Jaime said, though he didn’t mean it in the slightest, “nothing cuts like Valyrian steel.”

            “So they say,” Joffrey said breathlessly.

            Joffrey turned on his heel and hacked apart the book that Tyrion had gifted him.

            Everyone at the table recoiled away from the flying pieces of detritus and the wild swings of the King. Sansa’s hold on Jaime’s sleeve had tightened and Jaime moved to cover her hand with his.

            The whole dinner was silent around them.

            “Such a great sword should have a name!” Joffrey called out and turned to look over the assembled people. “What shall I call her?”

            People shouted out different names but Jaime just continued to run his thumb soothingly over the back of Sansa’s hand until the line of her shoulders relaxed a little.

            “Widow’s Wail,” Joffrey said, having heard it shouted out by someone. “I like that.” Joffrey nodded to himself as he moved to put the sword away. “Every time I use it it’ll be like cutting off Ned Stark’s head all over again.”

            Sympathetic eyes turned to where Sansa was facing forward, face like stone. Margaery’s hand took Sansa’s free one and Jaime pressed his thumb against the ridge of Sansa’s knuckles. That was much too far. Sansa looked pale and drawn and frightened and Jaime couldn’t stand that look on her face.

            The rest of the dinner was much less of an ordeal, but Sansa hardly let go of Jaime’s arm except for when she picked at her plate restlessly, only taking a few bites.

            Jaime made a mental note to have Shae bring something up to their chamber for Sansa to eat before she went to sleep. She’d make herself sick if she kept this up, but maybe, Jaime supposed, that was the point.

            Jaime took Sansa back up to the Keep as propriety would allow. She stuck to his side like a bur. Jaime found that he didn’t mind at all.

            Once they were behind closed doors, with only Shae in the room besides the two of them, Jaime spoke. “Shae, would you mind going down the kitchens and seeing if they have a lemon cake or two left over? Lady Sansa has hardly eaten.” Shae gave Jaime a small smile before she curtsied and left.

            “I’m not hungry, my lord,” Sansa said, her voice watery and her eyes on her lap.

            “I know you’re not.” Jaime said and he took Sansa’s hand in his. “I know you’re upset,” Jaime said softly, “and I’m sure Joffrey’s little display did nothing but upset you more. I am your husband and I promised to protect you, and I intend to keep that promise.”

            “All I can think about is what’s happening to them,” Sansa said. Jaime didn’t need to ask to know exactly who she was talking about.

            “I don’t know your brother very well, I was his prisoner and we only spoke a few times,” Jaime said, gently squeezing her hand to get her attention on him, “but he is a brave, strong man. Your mother, on the other hand, I admire. She is a strong woman and she would do anything, even freeing me against her king’s wishes, to protect her children.” A tear slipped down Sansa’s cheek. “I see so much of the both of them in you, and that’s how I know that they’ll be alright, and so will you.”

            The door opened and it was Shae with the food for Sansa.

            Sansa pulled away from Jaime and wiped the tears from her cheeks before she thanked Shae. The maid helped Sansa ready for bed and Jaime left them to it, getting ready to get some sleep himself.

            He smiled a little to see her taking a few bites of the lemon cake while Shae brushed out her hair.

            Jaime settled in their bed and just lay there, staring up at the canopy until his eyes finally slipped shut and he dozed off.

…..

            Sansa couldn’t sleep for the longest time. She tossed and turned and eventually when she could doze, she had terrible dreams. She saw her mother, locked up in chains in a near lightless dungeon, battered and beaten. She saw her brother at the executioner’s block, his auburn hair already dripping blood.

            When she jerked awake, it was to Jaime’s hand touching her shoulder.

            “You were having a nightmare,” Jaime said. “I thought I should wake you.”

            Sansa nodded and worked to get her breathing under control.

            “You’re safe, Sansa. It’s alright,” Jaime said soothingly, reaching out to move her hair from her eyes. “Everything’s alright.”

            Sansa swallowed thickly and she couldn’t help but lean into the light touch to her cheek where Jaime’s hand still lingered. It felt like the first safe human contact she’d had in the longest time.

            “Try and go back to sleep, I’ll stay up for a little while longer, just in case,” Jaime said to reassure her. She nodded and gave him a grateful smile as she laid down. Without his hand on her cheek and his body curled towards hers, she felt so lost and cold. She chewed her lip, debating it for the longest time, but then she threw aside her debating and moved to curl into Jaime’s side.

            “Is this alright?” She asked, her hand right under his ribs but not laying her head down on his chest yet.

            Jaime just nodded and Sansa settled her head right over his heart. The dull thud of his heartbeat was comforting and she found herself lulled to sleep by the sound.

…..

            Jaime could admit that he liked the feeling of waking up to Sansa in his arms. She was warm and soft and it was nice to be able to have some kind of physical comfort when he slept. He tried to keep as still as possible so he couldn’t wake her, but eventually he could feel her stirring and she rubbed at her eyes before propping herself up.

            She gave him the softest, sleepiest smile and then leaned forward to press a feather-light kiss to the corner of Jaime’s mouth. Jaime turned his face just a little so that their lips slotted together properly and Sansa sucked in a breath through her nose.

            But she didn’t pull away from him.

            Not entirely.

            She broke from their kiss and her eyes were wide and almost nervous as they searched his. He gave her a soft smile. “Good morning, Sansa,” Jaime said, his voice a little raspy from sleep.

            “Good morning, Jaime,” Sansa said back, her voice barely above a whisper.

            Jaime thought about kissing her again, but he thought it was best to just let Sansa lead until she told him it was alright otherwise. Sansa seemed to feel the slight shift and she got out of bed, pulling a dressing robe around herself.

            “I should start getting ready,” Sansa said. “I need Shae to fetch my dress from Myrcella’s chamber. It was delivered last night.”

            “Why don’t you and Myrcella get ready together?” Jaime offered. “You’ll have someone who’s better company than me.” Jaime quirked a small smile.

            “I’d like that,” Sansa said as she flicked her hair out of her dressing robe. “I think I will do that.” Sansa looked over her shoulder at Jaime and gave him a soft smile that was highlighted perfectly by the early morning light.

            Jaime felt a soft pang in his chest and he smiled back.

…..

            “You don’t think it’s too much,” Sansa said and looked at her dress in Myrcella’s looking glass. She smoothed out the skirt and turned so that she could look over her shoulder at the back.

            “It’s perfect, Sansa,” Myrcella said and moved to perch her chin on Sansa’s shoulder. “You look absolutely stunning.” It was made of a dark blue material that brought out the blue in Sansa’s eyes, or so Myrcella said. “And that necklace compliments it so well. Did my uncle buy that for you?”

            “No, it was a gift from a friend,” Sansa said as she smoothed out the chain around her neck. “You don’t think the color is a bit… much?” It was a much more striking color and silhouette than Sansa had been wearing recently.

            “Isn’t that the point? You’re the King’s aunt now, Sansa. You’re allowed to look as extravagant as you want.” Myrcella turned her back to Sansa. “Would you mind clasping my necklace for me?”

            Sansa took the chain and made sure it was fastened before she let go.

            “How do I look?” Myrcella asked and did a twirl.

            Her gown was a deep red that set off her golden hair. The gown was fitted to her body and left her shoulders and back completely bare. The gown itself was held up by a golden chain around Myrcella’s neck and a golden wreath of leaves around her waist. She had a thin gold coronet that circled her head, and a beautiful ruby colored ornament that lay on her right cheekbone. It set off the green color of her eyes.

            “Wonderful,” Sansa said and Myrcella beamed.

            “I hope Trystane thinks so. He’s not seen it yet.”

            “Neither had Jaime,” Sansa said. Myrcella slipped her arm through Sansa’s.

            “Then we better go show them.” Myrcella held her chin up in the way only a princess could. “They’ll be struck dumb, just you wait.”

            They walked down to where Trystane and Jaime were waiting for them. Sansa felt a bit of a thrill as she and Myrcella walked in and saw the way that both Trystane’s and Jaime’s eyes widened.

            “Are we all ready?” Myrcella asked and slipped her arm from Sansa’s so that she could settle into Trystane’s side.

            “I think we are,” Trystane said and kissed her cheek.

            “Most definitely,” Jaime said and he couldn’t take his eyes off of Sansa. “My lady,” he said and offered his arm.

            “My lord,” Sansa said back, barely able to contain a smile.

            They all rode to the Sept in a litter and then it was merely a waiting game until the rest of court showed up and then Margaery and her father.

            The ceremony, once Margaery arrived looking stunning in a light green dress, was short and soon Margaery and Joffrey were sealing their marriage with a kiss and a crown being placed on Margaery’s head.

            “We have a new Queen,” Sansa said quietly, leaning in to Jaime.

            “Better her than you,” Jaime said and brushed his nose to her temple before placing a swift kiss there. Sansa gave him a small smile that showed exactly how relieved she felt that she wasn’t in Margaery’s place right now.

            The feast was soon after and it was horrible.

            Joffrey was in a rare fit of temper, most likely due to the amount of wine he’d been drinking, and not even Margaery’s simpering and flattery was enough to fully distract him.

            Sansa was sitting at the end of the high table, Jaime next to her and Tyrion next to him, but Myrcella had gone to sit with Trystane and his uncle, Prince Oberyn. So she was mostly alone with the two Lannister sons.

            Lady Olenna came up to her and smiled. “You look exquisite, child,” she said but then tutted, “the wind has been at you though.” She moved to fix Sansa’s plait and then the twist in the chain of her necklace. “I haven’t had the opportunity to tell you how sorry I was to hear about your brother. War is war, but doing such a thing at a wedding, horrid. What sort of monster would do such a thing.” Lady Olenna stroked the back of her hand down Sansa’s cheek. “As if men need more reasons to fear marriage.” Sansa cracked a small smile at Lady Olenna’s sharp wit. “But on the bright side, he’s still alive and well, as is your mother and your sister-in-law. So keep your chin up, my dear.” Lady Olenna tapped her chin so that her eyes were up higher. “Perhaps, since the war is coming to an end, your dear husband would allow you to visit Highgarden.”

            “I’m sure that once Sansa saw it, you’d convince her never to leave,” Jaime said and gave Lady Olenna a small smile. “I’m not sure I could part with my dear wife for quite that long.”

            “Wouldn’t that be an idea,” Lady Olenna said. “Now, I think it’s about time I ate some of this food I paid for.” She gave Sansa a wink that had her beaming.

            Sansa jumped, as did Tommen and Margaery’s family, when suddenly Joffrey was throwing gold at the performers in the middle of their performance to hurry them off. They took it in stride and Margaery leaned over to whisper something into Joffrey’s ear. He grinned at her and then stood. “Everyone! The Queen would like to say a few words.”

            Sansa sat up a little straighter as Margaery stood, smiling as bright as the sunshine. “We are so fortunate to enjoy this marvelous food and drink. Not all among us are so lucky. To thank the gods for bringing the recent war to a just end,” Margaery gave Sansa a side-glance, “King Joffrey has decreed that the leftovers from our feast be given to the poorest in his city.” There was a smattering of applause.

            Sansa tried to simply talk to Jaime and Tyrion, since they were closest to her, but it seemed at every given opportunity, Joffrey was going to try and torture the performers meant to be entertaining the King’s guests. Tyrion tried to keep her mind occupied with jokes and stories that he was quite obviously spinning out of nowhere, while Jaime held onto her hand. Both of them were helping a little and for that she was immeasurably grateful.

            But then Joffrey’s bad temper rounded on Tyrion. Joffrey dumped wine over Tyrion’s head and Jaime tensed, Sansa could feel it, in his seat beside her. Jaime was staring down the table at Lord Tywin, but the Lord Hand said nothing.

            Joffrey declared Tyrion be his cupbearer. Tyrion took the slight with poise and a well turned phrase. Joffrey let his cup slip from his fingers and then he’d kicked it under the table.

            Sansa sighed and she stood from her chair and knelt to get the cup where it sat not far from her foot. She leaned forward to hand it to Tyrion, who smiled at her tensely.

            Margaery broke in and tried to distract Joffrey, and it thankfully worked. Jaime relaxed minutely and Sansa took his hand. Now it was her turn to provide him some comfort since he’d been so patient and kind with her.

            Lord Tywin only stepped in when Tyrion tried to slip away and Joffrey called out for him. “Your uncle is sopping wet and hardly fit to be at the head table of the King’s wedding,” Lord Tywin said and gave Tyrion a harsh glare as if Tyrion had dumped the wine over his own head. “Let him go change into something more appropriate.”

            Joffrey waved his hand and allowed it.

            It wasn’t long after that Joffrey started coughing. It was an occasional thing so it was hardly something that anyone paid attention to. But then it continued and not even his sips of wine would quell it.

            Margaery’s eyes widened and she touched Joffrey’s arm. “He’s choking!” She said and Sansa was struck by how scared Margaery sounded.

            “Help the poor boy!” Lady Olenna shouted. Joffrey stumbled away from the table, retching horribly in a way that haunted Sansa. “Idiots, help your King!”

            He fell and Sansa was shocked to see bile and blood spewing from Joffrey’s lip.

            Cersei ran to him and all Sansa could hear was her heartbeat thudding in her ears. Her hands shook as she held onto Jaime’s sleeve.

            Cersei’s eyes were alight when she lifted them from Joffrey’s face, gone an awful shade of purple as he choked. “Find Tyrion! Find him! He poisoned my son! He poisoned the King!” She continued to scream ‘find him’ over and over again.

            “Please, Jaime,” Sansa said. “I want to leave.”

            “Sansa?”

            “ _Please_ , Jaime.” Sansa finally pulled her eyes away from where Joffrey had stopped choking. “I can’t be here another moment.”

            “Alright,” Jaime said and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “We’ll go back to the Keep.”

            They were silent the whole walk up, many others doing the same, and Sansa felt so cold and distant from herself and how light she’d felt just a few hours before. When they were inside, Sansa sat down in a chair and just stared at nothing.

            She felt a great many conflicting things. She felt overjoyed that Joffrey wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone anymore, especially not Margaery. She felt guilty at feeling happy at another’s death. She felt relieved because that meant Tommen, dear, sweet, gentle Tommen, would be King in his brother’s place.

            She let out a shaky breath and just closed her eyes.

            Then another thought occurred to her. Tommen would be King now. Tommen who didn’t have a mean bone in his body. She could petition her new nephew to release her family. She had no doubt that if she wrote to Robb or her mother they would consent to some sort of arrangement with Tommen. He at least hadn’t taken her father’s head.

            Maybe, just maybe, a lot of good came out of this terrible, ugly wedding.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to progress rather quickly now! Comment and tell me what you thought about this newest update in our little journey! Also everyone's looks can be found on my tumblr (obvious-captain-rogers) under my tag for this fic (I put Sansa's wedding stuff up and completely forgot to tell y'all about it)!  
> -James


	8. Chapter 8

            Jaime felt a numb buzzing at the back of his head as he moved to get himself dressed. His fingers fumbled on his good hand and he let out a frustrated sigh and just sat there with his doublet hanging open and staring at his feet.

            Jaime hadn’t been close to Joffrey. He’d rather disliked him in many aspects if Jaime was being totally honest with himself.

            But…

            But Joffrey was still Jaime’s son. He was still Jaime’s boy and now he was dead.

            “Jaime?” He snapped his head up to see Sansa looking at him, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “Is there anything I can do?” She asked.

            There was more weight to that question than Jaime wanted to think about.

            “No,” Jaime said.

            Sansa moved forward, her black skirts swishing as she walked and then knelt in front of him, and reached for his doublet. Her fingers were deft as they did up the remaining fastenings and then smoothed the fabric down. “I’m sorry,” she said and Jaime frowned at her a little. She couldn’t mean that. She had every reason to hate Joffrey and to want him dead. “He was your nephew and it was a horrible way.”

            “You should save your condolences for Margaery, she lost a husband.” Jaime didn’t mean to sound so brusque, but he didn’t want to dwell on his own feelings. He felt like he had no right to them. Joffrey wasn’t truly his son, Jaime hadn’t raised him, and up until he’d started choking, Jaime had burned with some kind of hatred toward him. Jaime stood abruptly and stepped away from Sansa to pull on his boots, leaving her kneeling there, her body shifting so that she could continue watching him.

            She stood, not looking put-out in the slightest, and smoothed her skirts out. Instantly, Jaime felt a pang of guilt. He took a breath. “I’m sorry, Sansa… I shouldn’t- that was rude.”

            “It’s alright,” Sansa said but she didn’t come over to his side again. “You’ve lost someone in your family, I can understand.” There was no hint of emotion in her voice, but to Jaime that was so much worse.

            “Let’s just go to the Sept and then not dwell on this any longer,” Jaime said and he held out his hand for Sansa. She gave him a soft smile, the tight line of her shoulders relaxing, as she took his hand.

            “I’d rather like that,” she said and slipped her hand into his.

            The Sept had very few people in it. Tommen and Myrcella were standing next to Cersei at Joffrey’s side, Tywin across from Tommen, and Margaery was standing a little back from Joffrey’s body, her grandmother and father on either side of her. Tyrion was nowhere to be seen.

            Margaery looked so mournful and Jaime walked with Sansa over to her side. “I’m so sorry, Margaery,” Sansa said and pulled the other girl into a tight hug.

            “Thank you, sweet girl,” Margaery said and swiped a tear from her cheek. “And my condolences to your family as well, Lord Jaime.” Jaime just nodded tightly, his eyes flicking over to where Cersei was just staring at Joffrey blankly.

            “I’ll be right back,” Jaime said to Sansa and brushed hand over her back. She nodded and began speaking to Margaery again as Jaime made his way over to stand next to Myrcella.

            “Uncle Jaime,” she said tearfully and tucked herself under his chin. He held onto her and rubbed her back as soothingly as he could.

            “How are you?” Jaime asked Tommen. The young boy looked rather like he was going to be sick.

            “I’m alright,” Tommen said shakily.

            “You are, you _will be_ ,” Jaime said firmly.

            “I’ll see to that,” Tywin said and Jaime looked over to his father.

            Jaime pressed a kiss to the top of Myrcella’s head and she let go so she could wrap an arm around Tommen’s shoulders. “Come on, Tommen,” Myrcella said softly. “We should leave Mother to her grieving.” Myrcella lead Tommen away and shot Jaime a small smile. He nodded to her and then moved to stand next to Cersei.

            “I want everyone out,” Cersei said quietly and Jaime turned to look at her. If he hadn’t distinctly heard her voice, he couldn’t have guessed she’d spoken because she didn’t even move.

            “Cersei…” Tywin started.

            “Out!” Cersei snapped, almost as rabidly as when she’d been shouting for Tyrion’s arrest.

            Tywin looked at her with narrowed eyes for a moment before he stepped away and told everyone that the Queen wanted time alone with her son. Jaime started to leave, to rejoin Sansa, but Cersei caught his arm.

            “Not you,” she said and Jaime looked down at her hand, clutching his sleeve, and then back up to her face. “Please.” It was such a broken sound and then Cersei was turning pleading eyes to his. His throat felt tight and he found himself nodding despite not really wanting to be there with her.

            When he caught Sansa’s eyes, she frowned, but when Jaime nodded to her encouragingly, she left with the Tyrells.

            The septons left and closed all the doors. It wasn’t until they were completely alone and the silence had been ringing between them for long moments that Cersei spoke again.

            “It was Tyrion. He killed him. He told me he would.” Cersei’s voice was angry and sad and broken all at the same time. “‘The day will come when you think you are safe and happy then your joy will turn to ashes in your mouth’. That’s what he said to me.”

            “Tyrion wasn’t even there,” Jaime said, trying to reason with her.

            “It doesn’t matter!” Cersei snapped at him. “Avenge him, avenge _our_ son. Kill Tyrion.”

            Jaime couldn’t say he was completely shocked. He shook his head. “Tyrion’s my brother, _our_ brother. There will be a trial; we’ll get to the truth of what happened.”

            “They’ll be no trial. He’ll wiggle his way to freedom if given the chance,” Cersei spat. “I want him _dead_.” Cersei’s anger snapped like a thread and then she was bowing her head, tears slipping down her face. “Please, Jaime. You have to. He was our son, our baby boy.” She turned into Jaime’s chest and buried her face in his collarbone. He held her and rocked her as he had for Myrcella when she’d clung to him.

            He pulled back and Cersei traced her fingers over the line of his jaw. Jaime thought, for a moment, about stepping away, but Cersei must have seen it in his eyes because she fisted her hands into his doublet and pulled him in for a kiss.

            Jaime shuddered a little as her hands stroked his chest, his face, his hair, but then he remembered innocent blue eyes and a flash of copper hair and he pulled away, breathing in sharply.

            He stepped back, stumbling a little as he went.

            “Jaime,” she called, still in that pleading and tearful voice that made Jaime immediately want to go back and protect her.

            But he couldn’t. Not anymore.

            Jaime turned his back to her and started towards the doors. Cersei called for him again in the same tone, but when he kept walking and didn’t look back at her, her call turned into something ugly and hateful. Jaime closed his eyes and yanked open the door to the Sept so he could be in the fresh air. He took a shuddering breath and opened his eyes to look up into the clear blue sky.

            He couldn’t stay in King’s Landing. Not with Cersei here.

            Bu first he had some business with his father to attend to.

…..

            Sansa didn’t like the thought of Cersei and Jaime alone together. It didn’t sit right with her, but he had looked so sure of himself, so she’d gone with Margaery and her family to the Keep.

            Lady Olenna had wanted to talk to Margaery alone so Sansa left them to it, making her way back to her and Jaime’s room. She tried to keep busy with little things that needed to be done around the room, but she couldn’t keep her mind off of Cersei.

            Sansa was afraid of what Cersei might do.

            She’d already accused Tyrion of Joffrey’s murder, and he wasn’t even present, so Sansa was worried that Cersei might turn her accusations to Sansa. To an outsider, Sansa was the perfect scapegoat for Joffrey’s murder. She’d been there, she’d laid hands on Joffrey’s cup, she was the daughter and sister of traitors, and she could easily have wanted revenge for Joffrey beheading her father, imprisoning her brother, and then humiliating her time and again.

            Her hands were shaky and she had to put aside her stitching.

            She suddenly wondered if that’s what Cersei wanted to talk to Jaime about.

            She jumped as the door opened and Jaime walked in, looking extremely weary and worn. Their eyes met and for a long moment, Sansa wasn’t sure what was behind his eyes when he looked at her.

            “Jaime?” She asked, wishing to break this uncomfortable silence.

            He moved toward her and she scrambled up and away from him. He blinked and she could see the stung expression on his face.

            “What’s happened?” Sansa asked, trying to gloss over what had just happened.

            “My sister is convinced that Tyrion murdered the King. Yet, no one has seen or heard from Tyrion since he left the wedding.” Sansa’s shoulders relaxed but she still felt a twinge of worry. “I’ve talked to my father, and he has agreed if you consent, that we should go to Casterly Rock.”

            Sansa let out a stuttering breath of relief. “Go to the Rock?”

            “Only if you want to,” Jaime said. “I thought perhaps you might want to get away from his place.” Sansa nodded, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from screeching with delight like a little girl. “Then I suppose we should start having our things packed.”

            Sansa let out a relieved sigh. “Thank you, Jaime.”

            Jaime nodded and slumped down into a seat.

            Sansa moved to sit down next to him and she hesitated for a moment before he covered his hand with hers. “Jaime…?” she said softly and bit her lip. Something was obviously bothering him.

            He gave her a weak smile.

            She knew that there wasn’t going to be anything that she could say or do to help unburden him. So she just held onto his hand for a moment before she pulled back. She poked her head out of the door to see Brienne standing there. “Could you please get Shae for me, Lady Brienne?”

            “I’ll be right back, my lady,” Brienne said and moved to do as Sansa had bid.

            Sansa went back into their room so she could start pulling things that she wanted Shae to pack. She haphazardly folded each gown, taking them all despite knowing she wouldn’t wear the ones that didn’t fit well. Jaime had been right, she didn’t like them nearly as much now that she had gowns that suited her better.

            She glanced over to see Jaime was still just sitting there.

            She suddenly wished they knew each other better so she could coax out the Jaime that smiled easily and made her feel lighter.

            She bit her lip and continued to keep her hands occupied so her mind couldn’t spiral with all the things that were buzzing for her attention.

…..

            Jaime watched as Sansa pulled out and partially folded her gowns. It was soothing to watch Sansa walk the same circular path over and over with each gown. She didn’t seem nearly as troubled as Jaime, until she shot him a sideways glance that she must have thought he didn’t notice.

            Jaime was touched by the concern that he saw in her eyes, but for now he just wanted to stay where he was. He’d talked to his father about everything that was happening. He’d managed to convince his father to call the dogs off of Tyrion until they could truly get to the bottom of all that had happened.

            Jaime also made the point that without Jaime or Tywin there to hold it, the Rock was vulnerable for attack by any of Robb Stark’s lingering troops. It was said the Rock was impregnable, a fact that Jaime’s father had pointed out, but Jaime insisted and Tywin didn’t truly care whether or not Jaime stayed in King’s Landing. Jaime could tell his father much rather preferred that Jaime go to the Rock ‘where he belonged’.

            Jaime had made one last final request: that Tywin hand over Robb, Catelyn, and Talisa Stark to Jaime to have them imprisoned at the Rock. Jaime pointed out that, as his father had just said, the Rock was impregnable so he would obviously be under no threat of being rescued there, unlike the Twins, and Tywin could trust Jaime, unlike the Freys.

            His father had looked at him with narrowed, suspicious eyes for a long time.

            “This doesn’t have anything to do with your new bride, does it?” Tywin asked.

            Jaime had forced himself to roll his eyes. “Not at all. I just want to make sure that what happened to Joffrey doesn’t happen again to Tommen.”

            His father had given him a searching look for a little while longer, determined to make Jaime squirm, but when Jaime didn’t give anything away, Tywin relented and agreed.

            Jaime hadn’t told Sansa about her family, but he would once they were out of the city. He knew she would be happy and he didn’t want her to have to stifle her joy.

            Sansa’s maid came in and together the two women packed up Sansa’s dresses into a trunk and then Sansa moved to Jaime’s wardrobe.

            She carefully took out and folded Jaime’s shirts and set them aside for Shae to pack away into a trunk. Shae lifted Jaime’s shirts and put them in with Sansa’s dresses without skipping a beat. Sansa turned, noticed, but then didn’t correct Shae.

            It warmed Jaime’s chest.

            Such a small thing made Jaime feel right about his plans.

…..

            It took a day or two for them to get their things together and then sent off, but it was a great relief when it came time for Sansa and Jaime to leave and go to Casterly Rock. Sansa thought she’d be nervous, but all she felt was excitement at the prospect of never having to set foot in King’s Landing ever again.

            She was stood in the courtyard of the Red Keep and watched as Jaime readied his horse. She saw a flash of black and gold out of the corner of her eye and managed to keep her startled reaction in when she saw it was Cersei sweeping out to stand next to her.

            “So, little dove,” Cersei said bitterly, “you’ve managed to manipulate my brother into taking you back home.”

            “I didn’t manipulate him,” Sansa said, frowning. “I didn’t even know about it until Jaime told me his father had agreed to it.”

            “Ah yes, because there aren’t other ways to make your wants known and manipulate,” Cersei laughed bitterly.

            Sansa suddenly felt very angry at the implication and she straightened her shoulders, bringing herself to her full height that was considerably taller than Cersei. “I think you’d know a good deal more about _that_ than I would.”

            Cersei’s shocked face was worth it as Sansa turned on her heel and walked toward where Margaery, Olenna, and Myrcella were waiting at the bottom of the steps. She hugged both of the girls tightly.

            “You’ll write to us, won’t you?” Myrcella asked.

            “Of course,” Sansa assured. “Nearly every day.” She gave Myrcella’s hands a gentle squeeze.

            “I hate to see you go, sweet girl,” Margaery said and tucked a stray lock of Sansa’s hair behind her ear. “But I’m so happy for you.”

            “Thank you,” Sansa said and felt herself blush. “And I’m sure you’ll find yourself a good match as well.”

            “I’m sure I will,” Margaery said and her smile was more directed over Sansa’s shoulder. Sansa glanced over to where Jaime was talking to Tommen, but Tommen’s eyes were on them. He was blushing and Sansa knew precisely why.

            “Come here, child,” Olenna said and held her arms out for Sansa. Sansa hugged her and Olenna spoke softly in her ear. “You’re a wolf, never let them forget it.” Olenna brushed a kiss to Sansa’s cheek and gave her a wink.

            “Thank you, my lady.” Sansa couldn’t help her bright smile.

            “Sansa?” Sansa turned to see Jaime looking at her with a smile and raised eyebrow. She walked over to him and dipped into a curtsey in front of Tommen and Lord Tywin.

            “My lord, Your Grace,” she said and smiled at them prettily.

            “My lady,” Tommen said with a small smile. He seemed so small compared to the looming presence of Lord Tywin.

            “Just Sansa will be fine,” Sansa said and smiled at Tommen. He used to just call her Sansa back when she was betrothed to Joffrey.

            “That would hardly be appropriate seeing as you’re the King’s aunt by marriage,” Lord Tywin said.

            “You are right,” Sansa said and, because she was feeling bold, continued. “Aunt Sansa sounds much more fitting.” Seeing Tommen’s smile made it worth the sour look Lord Tywin gave her. She could tell that Jaime was stifling a chuckle beside her.

            “I won’t keep you any longer, Aunt Sansa,” Tommen said and ducked his head. “I hope you find the Rock to your liking.”

            “I’m sure I will, Your Grace.” He headed back up into the Keep, shooting Margaery a shy smile as he did.

            “A word with Lady Lannister alone?” Lord Tywin asked. Jaime glanced between the two and then nodded hesitantly.

            “I’ll see that everything is ready,” Jaime said to Sansa and let go of her arm. She nodded and watched him go, suddenly wishing that she could call him back to her side.

            “You seem to have enthralled my son,” Lord Tywin said.

            “It seems everyone is under that impression,” Sansa said back as sweet as could be.

            Tywin’s lips twitched up for a moment. “However you’ve done it, I don’t suppose I really care as long as your… ambitions align with my goals for Jaime as the future head of this House.”

            “And those goals would be?” Sansa asked.

            Lord Tywin offered her his arm and she took it. “Give him an heir, preferably a son but given that your mother gave your father three sons I doubt you’ll have trouble with that, and make sure he doesn’t run the household into the ground. I’ve worked hard to keep it from doing just that and I intend for House Lannister to stand.”

            Lady Olenna’s words rang in her ears: _You’re a wolf, never let them forget it._

            “Do those two things and I will grant you whatever is in my power that you could want. You’re a smart girl, smarter than I think you let on to anyone,” Lord Tywin said as they made their way over to the waiting litter.

            “You’ll have both of those things,” Sansa said and nodded to him. Lord Tywin had said that he didn’t want Jaime to run the household into the ground, but he hadn’t said anything about Sansa doing it.

Lord Tywin seemed pleased enough with her response and he let go of her arm. “Then you’ll have no problems from me or anyone else in this House.” His words sat heavily with meaning but they made Sansa feel much lighter.

“Thank you, Lord Tywin,” Sansa said.

He nodded and then walked off. She felt her shoulders slump from their overly tight position and she stepped into the litter. Jaime pulled his horse up beside where she was pushing the thin curtains aside to look out the window.

“Ready?” He asked and gave her a smile.

“Yes,” she said and couldn’t keep the excitement from her voice.

“Then let’s go.” Jaime kicked his horse into motion and started shouting commands to the Lannister men that were guarding their journey. The litter rattled it’s way out of the courtyard of the Keep and Sansa let the curtain fall back into place.

Her cheeks ached with how much she was smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are. Soon we'll have another chapter with more characters but we have many plans in motion. Comment and lemme know what y'all think!   
> -James


	9. Chapter 9

            Sansa had never truly thought about what the Rock looked like mostly because she’d never thought to see it so why daydream about it? But now she wondered why she’d ever thought to overlook such a beautiful place.

            The Rock was raised up from the land around it and it was right off the sea. Sansa could hardly believe such a place existed outside of songs. It looked like one might trap a princess in the tallest tower.

            The litter came to a clattering stop and Sansa was grateful for it. She wanted to get out and stretch her legs, and to ride alongside Jaime if he would let her. He’d been a little quiet over the course of their journey, but Brienne, who’d accompanied them as Sansa’s sworn sword, had said that he simply had a lot on his mind.

            Sansa hoped that was the case.

            Brienne was immediately at the door of the litter and offering her a hand down. “Thank you,” Sansa said and gave Brienne’s gloved hand a squeeze. She looked around at the pretty field and breathed in the fresh air.

            “How do you like it?” She turned to where Jaime was riding up to her. He slid from the saddle easily and brought his horse over with him.

            “I think it’s rather beautiful,” Sansa said and she pet the nose of Jaime’s horse. “I’ve yet to see the inside, but I’m sure it’s just as nice.”

            Jaime simply looked back at the castle and then nodded. “I’m sure after you’ve added your own touch, it will be more than nice.” He gave her a smile that blinded her more than the sunshine.

            “We’ll just have to see,” Sansa said and she angled her body more towards his. “If it isn’t too much to ask, I’d like to ride into Casterly Rock. On horseback.” Sansa had learned, from Margaery, how to win the hearts of the common people. To be seen was definitely the first step.

            “I don’t see why not,” Jaime said and smiled at her. “We’ll have an extra horse carrying baggage, we can just stow the baggage in the litter and put you atop the horse.”

            Sansa nodded. “Sounds like a perfect solution to me.”

            Jaime turned and he waved down a boy with dark hair. “Take one of the younger baggage horses and have the baggage transferred to the litter, Lady Sansa would prefer to ride the rest of the way.”

            “Yes, my lord,” the boy mumbled and it was then that Sansa recognized him.

            “Podrick?” Sansa blinked in surprise. The boy had been Tyrion’s squire since before the Battle of the Blackwater. She wondered what in the seven hells he was doing here.

            “Lady Sansa,” Podrick said and he looked a little nervous.

            “How have you gotten dragged along with us?” Sansa asked and she suddenly felt very worried for Tyrion.

            “I was charged by Lord Tyrion that if anything were to happen to him, to stay with Ser-Lord Jaime,” Podrick said, correcting himself. “Since no one has seen him since the King’s wedding… I thought-well…” Podrick shrugged and chewed his lip, not quite meeting her eyes.

            “Well, I can’t say I was expecting you, but it’s always nice to see a familiar face,” Sansa said and Podrick’s eyes lifted to hers. He gave her a small smile.

            “Thank you, my lady,” he mumbled. “I should fetch that horse for you.” Sansa watched him go and she couldn’t help but think about Tyrion. She hoped that he was alright.

            It seemed, when she turned to him, that Jaime was just thinking the same thing. He quickly covered it up though with an airy smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Shall we stop and have a little picnic?”

            Sansa looked at Brienne and Brienne merely shrugged. “That sounds fine,” Sansa said and she moved to pull one of the blankets out from the litter. They found a spot only a little ways away from the men, who Jaime gave orders to take a short rest, and settled on the blanket that Sansa spread out. Brienne stood and kept guard over them.

            “I feel as though I’ve seen so very little of you,” Sansa said after they’d eaten a little. It was easier to be honest with the breeze stirring through the tall grass.

            “I’m sorry,” Jaime said from where he was shredding a piece of grass one-handed. “I just… I suppose I’ve been getting caught up. There’ll be no more soldier camps for me,” Jaime said and sarcastically waved his golden hand at her.

            “That may not be the worst thing in the world,” Sansa said quietly. She didn’t like the thought of Jaime on a battlefield. It didn’t sit right with her.

            He gave her a soft smile. “Maybe.”

            “Well,” Sansa said and stood, brushing her skirts off, “we should get going. We’ve got a decent ride ahead still and I’d like to be at the Rock with time to bathe before supper.”

            Jaime grinned up at her. “As my lady commands,” Jaime said and stood, gathering up the blanket they’d been sitting on.

…..

            Jaime rode with Sansa by his side at the head of their company. Sansa was looking around curiously at everything as they entered through the gate and came into the courtyard. Most of the staff was waiting for them and when Jaime slid from his horse and moved over to Sansa’s side to help her down, many of the staff started to whisper, presumably, about their new lady.

            Jaime helped Sansa down, albeit a little clumsily due to still getting used to his hand, and she smiled at him gratefully. She smoothed down her skirts and squared her shoulders regally and Jaime felt a tinge of pride at the way she carried herself as she walked over to the staff.

            They all dipped into bows or curtsies as Sansa approached. The head housekeeper, an older woman with frazzled grey hair that Jaime remembered was once a light brown, came forward. “Lady Lannister, my name is Cassella,” she said with her eyes downcast, “if there’s anything you need, you need only ask me and I’ll dispatch one of the maids.”

            “Thank you, Cassella,” Sansa said. “I think the only thing that I can ask of you is for a bath to be drawn for both myself and my husband, and for supper to be made for those that accompanied us here if they are to stay with us.”

            Cassella nodded. “At once, my lady.” Sansa nodded, seemingly satisfied and turned to Jaime.

            He nodded his approval and offered her his arm.

            “Might I show you to your chambers, my lord?” A young man asked, stepping forward at Cassella’s prompting.

            “Yes, thank you…?”

            “Pearse, my lord,” he said and dipped his head. Jaime nodded and repeated the name over in his head as they walked. Pearse stopped outside the lord’s chambers, Jaime supposed he couldn’t actually stay in his old room since it’d technically been part of the nursery, and then looked at Sansa, his ears turning pink. “Would my lady like to see her chambers as well?”

            “I’m looking at them, but thank you,” Sansa said and then, almost as if she thought she might have done something wrong, glanced at Jaime.

            “That will be all, Pearse.” Jaime dismissed him and he nodded before taking off. Jaime opened the door for Sansa and she stepped inside and looked around.

            Since it’d been his father’s room, there wasn’t much in it in way of decoration. The solar had an impressive desk and chair set, an end table, and a House Lannister banner on the wall. When they stepped into the bedroom the four poster bed was bookended by side tables and there was a chest at the foot of the bed, a wardrobe, and another House Lannister banner on the opposite wall of the bed.

            “Well that will have to go,” Sansa muttered and Jaime had a feeling he wasn’t meant to hear that.

            “If there are any changes you’d like to make,” Jaime said and gestured around the room, “feel free. This room is ours and I want you to feel comfortable in it, Sansa.”

            Sansa turned and gave him a bright smile that made Jaime’s stomach flip-flop. “Thank you,” she said as she ran her hand over the crimson bedclothes.

            There was a knock and they both turned to look to see a maid standing there. “Alyse, my lord, my lady.” She looked between them almost nervously. “The bath is here as you requested, Lady Lannister.”

            “Lady Sansa will do just fine,” Sansa said and Jaime could practically hear her itching under the name _Lannister_.

            “Yes, my lady,” Alyse said and then she too scampered off.

            “Go ahead,” Jaime said and waved for Sansa to go first. “I’ll just be here, getting out of this.” Jaime waved his hand down at the light armor he was wearing. It was in the same fashion as all the other Lannister men.

            “Let me help you before I go,” Sansa said and she tentatively approached. Jaime swallowed thickly and nodded. Sansa moved to start with the straps she could reach and Jaime just watched her work. She didn’t look at him until she was reaching up to unbuckle the last straps that rested on his shoulders.

            She flushed as she caught how intently he was looking at her, but then it turned into a small smile as she left one strap secured so that he could just slip the rest of the way out of it.

            Jaime considered kissing her, but then she was turning and walking away from him. She went to the wardrobe and opened it up to see if the clothes they’d sent ahead had been delivered. Inside were only Jaime’s shirts and breeches, but she didn’t seem fazed as she took one of Jaime’s shirts. She glanced over her shoulder in the doorway as she was walking out again and Jaime felt like he’d had the air knocked out of him when she spoke. “Are you coming or not?”

            He moved to get himself out of his armor, leaving it on the floor near what he presumed would be his side of the bed, and he toed off his boots, throwing them aside, and almost as if he were in a trance, followed after her.

            He leaned his hip against the end table as Sansa moved to bolt the door. She bit her lip and moved to test the water.

            “Seems alright to me,” she hummed and then moved to take the tie out of her hair so it would fall loose. She went to reach for the ties of her dress but they were on the back so Jaime lightly touched her hand.

            “Allow me?” He made sure it sounded like a question because Jaime meant it when he said he wouldn’t touch her unless she asked him to.

            She nodded, though it was a little shyly, as she swept her hair out of his way.

            He stepped up so he could better reach the delicate knots in her laces. He expertly untied the knots and then loosened them so that she could get out of her dress without having to take the cords out. A distant echo of Cersei’s rebukes for completely unlacing her gowns came to mind, but it was instantly drowned out by the soft curve of Sansa’s exposed shoulder as she pushed her gown off and her loose shift slipped to expose pale skin dotted with freckles.

            She turned to face him and Jaime’s throat clicked as he swallowed thickly.

            There was a knock on their door that startled the both of them out of whatever was happening. Jaime wanted to pull his hair out but the knocking only got more insistent. Sansa squeaked and she moved to get out of the line of sight of the door so that Jaime could go answer it.

            Jaime all but yanked the door open. “What?”

            “I’m sorry, my lord,” the man said and ducked his head. “You’re needed down in the hall. It’s urgent business about…” the man trailed off and obviously was trying to see if Sansa was in the room.

            “I’ll be down in a moment,” Jaime said and sighed, his shoulders slumping. He closed the door in the man’s face and turned to Sansa with regret written all over his face.

            “Go,” Sansa said softly, giving him a small smile. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

            “I don’t deserve you,” Jaime said and he moved forward to kiss her forehead. She leaned into the touch and then she tilted his chin down for a proper kiss. The soft press of her mouth and the feeling of her body pressed into his made him even more reluctant to leave, but then she was pulling away.

            “The faster you go the faster you get to come back,” Sansa said with a coy smile that she must have picked up from Lady Margaery. Jaime grabbed his boots and hastily pulled them on before he strode out of the room and down to the hall.

            There, in the midst of Jaime’s men, stood Robb Stark, his hands bound together, and both Catelyn and Talisa Stark, flanked by guards. Jaime let his eyes sweep over them all, making sure none of them were harmed as per his orders, and then waved his hand at his men.

            “Wait outside,” Jaime said.

            “But, my lord-” One of Jaime’s captains tried to protest.

            “I said _wait outside_ ,” Jaime said firmly. The men gave each other side-long looks before they filed out of the hall. Catelyn Stark’s severe blue eyes, which were so like her daughter’s, stared him down as they waited. Once the doors had thudded shut, Robb Stark’s eyes snapped to Jaime’s.

            “What do you plan to do with us, Kingslayer?” Robb Stark snapped angrily.

            Jaime tried not to lose his temper at the name that he so hated. “I plan nothing,” Jaime said. “You are here because you rebelled against the Iron Throne. Be thankful that you’re still alive.”

            “And I have you to thank for that?” Robb asked, sarcasm tinting his voice.

            “You do,” Jaime said sharply. “My father wanted to have you slain at that wedding and made an example of. And he wouldn’t have stopped at just you. You would have died, your mother would have died, your pretty new wife would have died, and, from what I’ve been hearing, your unborn babe too. I told him that having you alive would send a more eloquent example.” Jaime shook his head.

            “Am I supposed to thank you?” Robb asked, the anger still in his voice but there was less of an edge to it. He obviously was relieved to have his mother, wife, and child spared.

            “I don’t expect you to, no,” Jaime said. “And I wouldn’t thank me, I’ve only done this so that your sister doesn’t have to watch any more of her family die.”

            Catelyn’s eyes softened at the mention of Sansa. “Sansa? Is she well? Where is she?”

            Jaime turned his eyes to her. “She’s here and she’s very well. I made you a promise, Lady Stark and I fully intend to keep it.”

            She stared at him for a long moment.

            “I want to see my sister,” Robb said but it wasn’t an order or a command, it was simply a boy asking to see his little sister.

            “Not today,” Jaime said and he rubbed at the furrow between his brows. He moved over to the door and poked his head out. “Take these three to their cells and make sure they’re fed and comfortable. Anything they ask for is to be given to them.”

            When Jaime gestured for the three of them to leave with the guards, they all regarded him with strange looks on their faces as they passed him. Jaime pinched the bridge of his nose once they were gone and took a deep breath. He’d need to tell Sansa soon, but he wasn’t sure how to or how she would take it.

            But he supposed he was going to have to do it eventually.

…..

            Sansa was still soaking in the warm bath when Jaime came back in. She turned to smile at him and invite him to join her, before she lost her nerve, but her smile slipped from her face as she noticed the tension in his body language.

            “What is it?” Sansa asked, her heart immediately fluttering with fear.

            “It’s about your family,” Jaime started and he fiddled with the cuff that kept his golden hand on.

            “No,” Sansa breathed out before she’d even let Jaime finish. Her mind whirled with all the worse scenarios and she felt her hands start to shake where they were resting on the edge of the tub.

            “No, no, Sansa,” Jaime said, obviously panicked at her panic, and moved to kneel next to the tub. “They’re safe just as I promised,” he said and reached out to cradle her face. “They’re _here_. I convinced my father to put them under my protection here at Casterly Rock.”

            Sansa’s heart thudded in her ears as she took in the information. She felt dizzy with everything she was feeling. “Thank you,” Sansa said and leaned forward to kiss him soundly, forgetting completely about her own nakedness. “Thank you, thank you.” She pressed kisses to his cheeks and mouth between each word.

            He was smiling when she pulled away from him finally. “Well, I’m glad that makes you happy.”

            Sansa chewed her lip for a moment. “Might I be allowed to see them?”

            Jaime took a breath and nodded. “Not tonight, but soon,” Jaime said and brushed the backs of his fingers over her arm. “Now, shall I have our supper brought up to us?”

            “Yes, please,” Sansa said. Jaime leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead before stepping out to talk to whoever was outside their door. She slipped from the bath and wrapped a robe around herself before Jaime reentered the room. He almost looked disappointed. “You should bathe while the water’s still warm.”

            He nodded and pulled his shirt off without further ado. Sansa thought she should avert her eyes, she’d never truly looked when he was undressing or dressing, but then she thought that perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad.

            He was still fit, though thinner than she’d expected, and Sansa watched the way his muscles played under his skin as he moved to toss his shirt over the back of the nearby chair. Sansa’s eyes traced over the faint lines of scars that marked his skin and when she brought her eyes back up to his, he was smiling at her. Her cheeks burned with the shame of being caught staring at him, but he didn’t seem to mind so much.

            “I should-” Sansa gestured toward the doorway of the bedroom but she couldn’t get out the words that she wanted.

            “Of course,” Jaime said and turned his back to her and Sansa stared for a moment longer but when he’d finished unlacing his breeches, she hurried off into their bedroom to put some clothes on.

…..

            Jaime’s bath was quick, just enough to scrub the traveling dust off his skin. He noticed that Sansa hadn’t brought back the shirt she’d taken out of the wardrobe, so he picked it up and slipped it on. It stuck to him where he hadn’t completely dried off, but he didn’t mind. He pulled on his breeches he’d taken off and made his way into his and Sansa’s bedchamber.

            She was dressed in a soft looking dress that was a little too big on her, but he supposed that if she was comfortable that was all that mattered. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed and he watched as she combed her fingers through her hair to get out the tangles.

            “I’ll have the vanity from the lady’s chamber brought into here with the rest of your things.” Jaime chewed his lip. “Unless you’d rather…”

            “We’ve shared a bedchamber since we were married, no use in changing that now,” Sansa said and finished with her hair. She gave him a shy smile. “Besides, now I’m used to having you with me. I’m not sure I’d be able to sleep without you in the room.”

            Jaime nodded and smoothed his hand over the bedspread. “Well, we’ll just have to stay together then.”

            “I suppose we must,” Sansa said and rolled her eyes but the smile gracing her features gave away her true feelings on the matter. Jaime smiled at that and just hoped that he would be able to continue seeing that smile. He’d become accustomed to it, as she had to his presence in bed, and to lose it now, and Jaime felt like if he lost her smiled it’d be like a flower losing the sun.

            He vowed right then and there to himself that he would do anything to keep her smiling at him like that. Even if it meant betraying the interests of his own family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter up and they're getting longer >.<  
> They may be a little slower/stop for a bit because in a few days I'm going back to uni and unfortunately I don't always have time to write. Unless I make a post about it, I'm continuing so don't worry!  
> -James


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: There is sexual content in his chapter

            Jaime really shouldn’t be avoiding the maester like he had been, but he was only human and he wanted to be able to spend as much time with his wife as he possibly could. His father would definitely be displeased that Jaime was ducking out of his duties, but Jaime had always been that way, and his father was the farthest thing from his mind at the moment.

            Because at the moment he and Sansa were on the beach and Sansa was ankle deep in the ocean’s water, her skirts hitched up in her hands, the sun playing in her coppery hair, and Jaime felt like the world had stopped just so he could take her in.

            “What’re you standing all the way over there for?” Sansa asked and held out a hand for Jaime. Jaime’s smile quirked up a bit and he moved towards her. He took her hand and brought it up to press a kiss to the back of her hand.

            Since that night when she had kissed him so fervently in the bath, they’d gotten much closer and more relaxed with each other. It happened so suddenly, but Jaime was just glad that the mask Sansa had been wearing in King’s Landing had been torn away to show the bright young lady underneath.

            They walked in the sand, the waves coming in to brush against their legs, for a while before Sansa spoke. “I don’t want to push,” Sansa said quietly, her thumb rubbing a circle into Jaime’s hand, “but I’d very much like to see my family.”

            Jaime chewed his lip. He knew this was coming.

            “I’m not sure I could get away with letting you see your brother,” Jaime admitted. If any of the men talked to the wrong person, it could spell disaster and most likely, Jaime’s father would have the Starks removed from the Rock and brought to the capital. “Perhaps though it would be alright for you to see your mother and your good-sister.”

            Sansa nodded, smiling, though a bit tensely, and seemed to accept that as the best that Jaime could do. “Thank you.”

            Jaime just nodded. They walked back to get their shoes and then made their way back up to the Rock. Immediately, Maester Creylen caught Jaime’s attention. Jaime held up a finger and turned to one of the men. “I want you to escort Lady Sansa down to see Lady Catelyn and Lady Talisa.”

            “Yes, Lord Jaime,” the man said and dipped his head.

            “I’ll see you at supper,” Jaime said and leaned over to kiss Sansa’s cheek. He turned back to Maester Creylen and nodded for the man to continue.

…..

            Sansa walked silently with the guard that Jaime had sent to escort her down into the cells. The air was cool and damp and it made her shiver despite still being warmed from the sun.

            “In there, my lady,” the guard said and nodded to the cell to his left.

            Sansa straightened her shoulders and put on the air of Lady Lannister. “Open the gate and only return an hour before the supper bell. I wish to be alone with my mother and good-sister.”

            “I don’t think-”

            “I don’t remember asking you what you thought. Should I tell Lord Lannister that you defied my order?” Sansa asked and arched and eyebrow. The man blanched and shook his head before he went down the short corridor. He came back with they key and opened the door for her. She stepped inside and kept her eyes on the guard as he closed the gate behind her and left.

            She turned to see her mother and Robb’s wife staring at her.

            “Sansa?” Catelyn asked shakily, her voice wet.

            “Mother,” Sansa breathed and took a step forward. Her hands clenched hard enough that her knuckles turned white. “Have they been treating you well? Have they hurt you?” All Sansa could think about was her nightmares and she looked over her mother’s face to reassure herself that she was unharmed. Sansa could see some dirt marred her mother’s features but there were no bruises or cuts to speak of ill treatment. For that Sansa was immensely grateful.

            “That guard called you Lady Lannister,” Robb’s wife said and she covered the swell of her stomach protectively.

            It was almost like Catelyn had forgotten that with the way she looked between Robb’s wife and Sansa. “What have they made you do?” Catelyn asked with a horrified tone to her voice.

            “I am Lady Lannister,” Sansa admitted, but she didn’t sound nearly as sheepish or ashamed as she’d thought she would have. There was a hint of pride in her voice that she couldn’t quite explain. “My engagement to Joffrey was broken and I was then pledged and quickly married to Ser Jaime, _Lord_ Jaime now.” Sansa clenched her hands and tried not to pick at her nails. “But I am still my father’s daughter, my brother’s sister.” Lady Olenna’s words gave her a small amount of comfort. _You’re a wolf, never let them forget it_. She supposed the same words could be applied to her own family with the way they were looking at her.

            Catelyn seemed to be in a state of shock as she just looked at her daughter. “You must tell me everything that’s happened,” Catelyn said and moved to take Sansa’s hands in hers.

            Sansa smiled at that and nodded. There were some truly dark times that Sansa wouldn’t burden her mother with, but there now were some better times. She started from right after her father’s execution, telling her mother how Cersei told her to write that letter to Robb. She went on to talk about how Lord Tyrion had been kind to her, keeping her away from the worst of Joffrey’s fits of temper, how she’d heard about Jaime and Brienne coming back to King’s Landing, about Margaery and Olenna, about her marriage. She knew there was a fondness in her voice when she spoke about Jaime and how he’d protected her just like he’d promised.

            “He’s not what I thought, Mother. He’s not what any of us thought,” Sansa said and smiled down at her hands.

            “Do you love him?” Catelyn asked and it sounded almost like a rebuke instead of a question.

            Sansa met her mother’s eyes, so like her own, and nodded. “I do.” She’d never admitted it, even to herself really, but it made her feel giddy and right to say it. “He’s kind to me, and patient, and he’s done so very much for me and our family.”

            Catelyn didn’t seem to believe it but Robb’s wife broke in.

            “I’m glad that you’re happy, Sansa,” she said softly though her smile seemed a bit sad.

            “I am,” Sansa said but then her thoughts shifted. “I came to make sure that you have everything you need. I-” Sansa bit her lip but pushed through. “I didn’t know about the baby. I’d be happy to help with anything that I could. Clothes, blankets, that sort of thing.”

            “Thank you. I’d like that very much,” Robb’s wife said and Sansa smiled at her.

            “I’m afraid that I know so very little about you. I hadn’t even heard until you were taken prisoner that Robb had even married,” Sansa said.

            “My name is Talisa,” she said and held out her hand. Sansa took it with a smile. “Your brother and I met during his campaign. I was sawing off a man’s leg.” She smiled at the memory and Sansa wasn’t surprised in the least that Robb had become fascinated with her just by that alone. Robb had always liked girls that pretty but also interesting.

            Talisa, Sansa had to admit, was _very_ pretty.

            They talked for a while and Sansa promised to help Talisa with preparations for the baby if Talisa would tell Sansa about medicine. Talisa had readily agreed with a smile and Sansa believed that they would easily become friends.

            In some ways, Talisa reminded Sansa a little bit of Arya and it made her feel warm to be reminded of her little sister every now and then.

            They talked for a long time, until the guard returned and told her that it was time for her to go. Sansa cast a glance at her mother and sister. “I’ll come back and visit, I promise,” she said.

            “It was good to see you, sweetling,” Catelyn said with a sad sort of smile.

            Sansa nodded and she moved toward the doorway. She looked back at them with a small smile before she stepped out and the guard shut and locked the door behind her. She felt her eyes prickle with tears, but she kept her head up and shoulders straight. She wouldn’t let herself fall apart.

…..

            Jaime didn’t like that he couldn’t just have his supper with Sansa in their room, but was required to make an appearance in the hall with his men. Sansa had changed into the blue gown that she had designed with Myrcella and Jaime couldn’t help that his eyes strayed to her despite being in conversation with his commander of the guard.

            Sansa was in deep conversation with Maester Creylen and Jaime wondered what they were talking about, but he turned his attention back to what his commander was saying about the guards at Robb Stark’s cell.

            Jaime made sure that his commander understood that his order to not harm Robb Stark under any circumstances were clear. The commander blinked, but Jaime’s stare stayed resolute and so he nodded his acquiescence.

            Sansa excused herself shortly after with a soft kiss to Jaime’s cheek. He nodded and let her go back to their room while he finished up his supper. He finished up and made the rounds with his men to make sure there was nothing else he could be doing to keep them loyal to him. They all seemed pretty pleased as long as they were paid and were allowed to go and see their families. Jaime made a note to have his commander set up a rotation so that would be possible.

            He could hardly imagine what it’d be like to be separated from Sansa for so long for a war that wasn’t of his making. He shook his head at that and excused himself with a charming smile to his men before he exited the hall to the sounds of hoots and wolf-whistles. He rolled his eyes but made his way towards his and Sansa’s bedroom nonetheless.

            He stepped inside quietly, assuming that Sansa would be in bed, but he was surprised to see her up with one of her older gowns in her lap and her sewing basket beside her. She was cutting the fabric into something much smaller and it struck Jaime that she was making baby clothes.

            Jaime hadn’t been expecting that.

            Logically, his brain knew that she wasn’t making baby clothes for a baby of hers- _theirs_ \- because they hadn’t even consummated their marriage, but his heart ran away with the possibility of that being a sight to welcome him in the future.

            Sansa looked up and she looked almost sheepish. “I didn’t expect you to be back yet.” She looked down at her dress and then at Jaime. “I thought perhaps I could use these to make clothes for Robb and Talisa’s baby. You were right about them not fitting and being too plain and you were certainly correct about us being able to afford to have new ones made but I didn’t want the fabric to go to waste…” Sansa continued rambling and Jaime couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his face.

            “Sansa, it’s alright,” Jaime said and she closed her mouth, her cheeks turning red. “I just was struck by what a picture you made.”

            Sansa’s blush darkened. “Oh.”

            Jaime moved over to inspect her work. She’d already shredded one dress, one of her light grey ones, and pinned it into a small outfit. Jaime ran his hand over it and smiled as he remembered when his own children had been so small. It made a part of him ache for that again, but this time he wanted to do it right.

            “They’re not done, obviously,” Sansa said and her chin was on his shoulder, her arms making their way around his waist tentatively.

            “They’ll be lovely,” Jaime said quietly and covered her interlocked hands with his own.

            She got on her toes just a bit to kiss him softly, her hands trailing up his sides until she broke away to bury her fingers in the short hair at the nape of his neck. Jaime let his hands settle on her waist as they kissed and there was a sudden spark and shift to the way she was kissing him.

            He felt warmth pool low in his belly, and he pulled back to give them a break for air and so that he could look into her eyes. She was looking at him steadily and she gave Jaime a small smile. “I want this,” she said quietly and Jaime’s heart picked up at that.

            “What?”

            “I want this,” Sansa repeated evenly. She flexed her fingers in his hair restlessly. “I want all of it.” Her cheeks were flushed pink but she remained meeting his eye.

            “Yeah?” Jaime asked, his voice coming out a little unsteady. He wanted her to be completely sure about this.

            “Yes,” she said and tugged him in for another kiss.

…..

            Sansa knew what she wanted. It’d been on her mind since the other night with the bath, but there had never been a good time. Plus, she’d lost her nerve. All her previous anxieties surrounding the act made her stomach twist up whenever she thought of her and Jaime being intimate.

            Yet, a part of her still wanted it.

            She kissed him again and he walked them back to where their bed was, turned down and ready for them to get into it.

            She slipped her fingers into his doublet, unlaced as he wore it most days, and pushed it off his shoulders so that it fell to the floor with a soft sound. She pulled away so that she could give him a quick grin before she divested him of his shirt as well.

            He didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

            Sansa, though her cheeks burned, let her eyes wander over the expanse of skin bared to her. He had, as she noted before, faint scars that were etched into his skin. She traced her fingers lightly over a thin line that ran right above the curve of his hipbone. He tensed reflexively under her touch and she brought her eyes back up to his.

            He was biting the inside of his cheek, but he just let her touch and go at her own pace. She took a deep breath and stepped out of his space so that she could reach behind her for the ties of her dress but Jaime set a hand to her shoulder.

            “Let me,” he said and his voice was rough. She shivered and turned her back to him.

            He slowly unlaced her dress, making sure not to pull the laces completely out of their place, and he leaned down to brush a soft kiss to her exposed shoulder as he let his fingers brush along her spine.

            She sucked in a breath and felt like she was hot all over. She reached up to push her dress off her shoulder and then the other. Underneath her dress she was wearing only a corset and her smallclothes and once she had her dress in a pool at her feet, she felt exposed.

            It wasn’t completely terrifying, but she felt vulnerable until Jaime turned her back around and kissed her fiercely. That made all her fears and doubts fly from her mind. She trusted Jaime; she loved him.

            He toed off his boots and kicked them to the side without breaking their kiss, his hand trailing up and down her arm just as restlessly as she felt on the inside. He broke away from their kiss and looked at her intensely.

            “We can stop,” he offered and Sansa shook her head.

            “I told you already, I want you,” Sansa said and she shakily moved to touch the laces of his breeches. She suddenly wished she’d asked Margaery for more advice on this aspect of marriage.

            The muscles in Jaime’s stomach jumped at her light touch and he caught her hand gently. He pressed a tender kiss to her knuckles before letting her hand drop and unlacing his breeches and taking them off himself.

            Sansa averted her eyes out of habit.

            She’d walked by when the boys at Winterfell, Robb, Jon, and Theon, were bathing and getting cleaned up, and she’d always made herself look away despite the small niggling curiosity at the back of her mind.

            Now she didn’t have to look away so she didn’t.

            It wasn’t what she had been envisioning in her head, but it still made her feel a little light-headed at the thought of what they were about to do.

            Sansa looked up at him through her lashes and he was watching her with obvious concern. She moved to kiss him again to assuage his worries about her. She was ready and she wanted him.

            She let her hands roam freely over his skin and she felt the way he sucked in a sharp breath through his nose. Jaime turned them so that Sansa’s back was facing the bed. He pulled back to press kisses against her jaw and then down her neck. She felt a spark run down her spine at the feeling of his lips against his neck. She couldn’t help the gasp that was pulled out of her chest when his teeth scraped over her pulse point. Her fingers dug into his shoulders where she was holding onto him desperately.

            He pressed a cursory kiss to her lips before he pulled back to impatiently tug at the laces of her corset and she laughed brightly as he only managed to tangle the knots up more. She swatted his hand away and distractedly untangled the mess he’d made as he dipped his head to press kisses along her collarbones.

            She managed to get it undone but she had to push him away so she could get it off.

            “So many damn layers,” he mumbled as he stepped back and she slipped it off and tossed it aside. She crossed her arms over her chest and Jaime just gently took her hand and slowly lowered it so he could see her.

            She blushed because she felt, despite still having her small clothes on, naked under his stare.

            “Beautiful,” Jaime breathed out and he swiped his thumb over the back of her hand before he stepped in to kiss her again. She felt secure with him and let herself cling to him. He gently guided her down to the bed, his golden hand was cold against her bare lower back as he used his other hand to support their weight.

            She cradled his face between her hands before she shifted so that he could settle between her thighs. She felt jittery at the way his body fitted and pressed against hers. Jaime easily distracted her by pressing his kisses down her neck and then journeying farther down.

            He paused under her ribs and pressed a harsh kiss there as he slid his hand up her thigh so that it rested warm at where her thigh and hip connected. He lifted his head and looked at her silently for permission to remove the last piece of her clothing.

            She bit her lip and nodded, arching her hips up to help him get her small clothes off.

            He smiled and slipped them off, kneeling on the bed between her calves as he moved to drop the article off the side of their bed. Sansa’s heart hammered against her ribs and she was sure that Jaime would be able to see it fluttering wildly under her skin if he looked hard enough, but his eyes were on hers.

            “If I do anything you don’t like, or don’t want, just tell me to stop and I will,” Jaime said as he moved up to kiss her again.

            “I trust you,” Sansa breathed against his mouth before chasing it and kissing him, biting at his bottom lip when he pulled away. He let out a low groan and she flushed with pride at being able to pull such a sound from him. He trailed his fingers up the top of her thigh before skipping over her hips to trace a line up her side. She held her breath and Jaime smirked at her reaction before he dipped in to kiss her again.

            As his hand trailed down the same path, though it diverted closer to where she wanted his hand. She arched into his touch and he paused for a moment, making her huff out an impatient breath through her nose, before he moved to touch her.

            The first touch shocked her and she jerked a little. His fingers were rougher than she’d thought, but with the expert way he touched her she wasn’t going to complain. He pulled back from their kiss and his fingers circled her expertly as he pressed distracted kisses to any patches of skin he could reach.

            She made small noises in the back of her throat at the heat that his touch made build in her belly. She ran her hands through Jaime’s hair helplessly, hoping that touching him will keep her anchored as he slipped a finger inside her. The sensation was new and she tensed a little but when he looked at her, a certain kind of fear in his eyes, she pulled him in for a kiss to reassure him because she wasn’t sure she trusted her voice at the moment.

            He brushed against her in a particular way and she couldn’t help the way her back arched or the cry that came from her lips. She felt so embarrassed but then she heard Jaime’s voice. “I’ve got you,” Jaime said into her skin. “Let go, Sansa. I want to hear you. I want to hear how I’m making you feel.”

            She knew she should have felt dirty at those words but she didn’t and soon enough Jaime was brushing against that spot again but in a more rhythmic that had sparks of pleasure lighting up Sansa’s whole body and she couldn’t help the moans and cries of Jaime’s name that passed her lips.

            He was smiling into curve of her jaw, she could feel it there, and her thighs were shaking out of her control as he gently worked another finger into her. She twisted her fingers tighter into Jaime’s hair and pulled him up to kiss her and she felt the stuttering moan that he let out against her mouth at that.

            Sansa’s hips were rocking of their own accord now as Jaime coaxed her higher and higher. She couldn’t even properly kiss him anymore because she felt like every movement of his fingers was punching the air out of her lungs and making her gasp against his mouth.

            Her eyes were shut tightly but she was hyperaware of Jaime’s body pressed up against her. She felt like a cord about to snap, and then Jaime’s hand was gone and Sansa let out the breath she’d been holding. Her eyes opened and she looked at him, shocked, and tried to get her brain to catch up.

            It’d been like she’d been teetering at the edge of a precipice and Jaime had suddenly yanked her back onto steadier ground.

            “Jaime…” she panted and frowned at him. “What’re-?”

            He hummed and shrugged at her casually but she could see the way his muscles were shifting restlessly and trembling. He was having to work very hard to control himself. “Don’t want this to be over too soon, now do we?” His smile was like the cat that ate the canary and Sansa’s first impulse was to slap him.

            She didn’t.

            But gods did she want to.

            “Jaime,” she said, her voice between stern and pouty.

            “Sansa,” he said softly in a way that made her insides melt.

            “Please,” she said and scratched lightly at his scalp. His eyes slipped shut for a moment before he nodded and pressed in close to kiss her again.

            Sansa felt her body respond eagerly to just his kiss, especially as his hand trailed up and down the inside of her thigh before he gently pressed two fingers back into Sansa. This time it was different. The way he moved his hand was still good, immeasurably good, but there was a determination in his face that Sansa hadn’t seen before.

            Sansa bit her lip and smoothed his hair as he brought her back up to where she’d been. Her whole body was shaking, and she couldn’t help but cling to Jaime and arch her body into his to be able to touch more of him.

            With a sharp gasp and a breathy cry that approximated Jaime’s name, pleasure flooded Sansa’s body and she couldn’t help the way her hips rocked into his hand, her hands clenching and unclenching. She closed her eyes and when her body finally calmed she just settled and tried desperately to catch her breath.

            Her eyelids were heavy but she opened them to see Jaime smiling at her softly.

            “Are you alright?” He asked and watched her face.

            “Perfectly. Now, come here,” Sansa said and pulled him in for an uncoordinated kiss. He hummed into it and Sansa, now that she wasn’t distracted with the heat in her belly, could feel his hardness against her thigh. “Jaime,” she said and let her hand slip down his side meaningfully as she spread her legs so he could be more comfortable.

            “If you need time, I don’t-”

            “I’m not going to break,” Sansa said and made him look at her. “I told you that I wanted all of you and I meant it.” She quirked a small smile and he nodded.

            Jaime shifted so that their hips lined up with hers. He glanced up at her through the sweat-damp fringe that was falling into his eyes before he pressed into her slowly.

            It was different than the way his fingers had felt, but the pain she’d been expecting never came. She smoothed her hands over his shoulders and the back of his neck as his muscles started to tremble.

            She pressed kisses to the side of his head as he let his head rest on her shoulder. His hips rocked shallowly against hers and she could tell that he was letting her get used to the feeling. She arched up into him and rocked her hips experimentally, gasping into his temple at the feeling.

            Their bodies worked together and this time it felt more like slowly building a fire to get hotter and hotter. There was no sense of urgency or desperation like there had been moments before and Sansa let herself fully relax and just _enjoy_ the feeling of Jaime overwhelming all her senses in the best way.

            She could feel the heat coming off his skin, his hair was soft but damp under her fingers, and his skin slid effortlessly against hers when they arched into each other. She could taste the salt of his sweat when she kissed his shoulder or his neck, taste the wine he’d had at dinner when he turned his head for an open-mouthed kiss. His ragged breathing and moans filled her ears as much as the sound of their skin coming together. When she pulled in gasping breaths she could smell the sweat and musk in the air as well as the fresh tang from the ocean that their room overlooked. And lastly, but certainly not least, was the expanse of golden skin that she saw when she opened her eyes.

            Jaime shifted back so that they were looking at each other before he reached down between them. At his touch Sansa was almost immediately seeing stars and going boneless. Her vision whited out and for a few moments it was if she’d gone deaf. When her hearing returned, moments after her sight had cleared, she heard Jaime’s breathing hitch twice in quick succession before he shuddered and she felt a warm, stickiness between her thighs. Jaime’s body went pliant, though he stayed propped up on his forearms and his muscles would twitch every now and then, and it seemed like he couldn’t lift his head from her shoulder.

            They both lay there, panting and sweating and trying to get their heartbeats to calm.

            When Jaime did pick up his head, his eyes were a little glassy and his smile was loose. Sansa gave him a chaste kiss as she smoothed down his hair. Her fingers carding through it, in combination with the sweat clinging to it, must have made it stand up on end like that.

            Sansa hummed and brushed their noses together contentedly.

            Jaime seemed to drift back to himself more completely. He gently pulled out of her, the stickiness feeling like it was spreading as he did so, and shifted to the side so that his weight wouldn’t be on her as he relaxed into their bed.

            Sansa ached a little, but in a good way that made her buzz pleasantly. She turned onto her side, with only slight protest from her muscles, to face Jaime. He faced her as well and Sansa couldn’t help the smile that was tugging at her lips.

            “Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?” Jaime asked and Sansa shook her head.

            “Stop worrying, it felt good.” She smoothed her thumb over his cheek with a fond smile. “Thank you,” she said quietly, now not quite able to meet his eye.

            “For what?”

            “For waiting,” Sansa said. A part of her, at first, had been scared that Jaime wouldn’t keep to his promise not to touch her unless she wanted it. She had thought perhaps it was his way of trying to earn her trust. But he’d been true and honest.

            “Any man who was worthy of you would have done the same,” Jaime said and turned his face into her palm to press a kiss there.

            “Perhaps,” Sansa said and she moved into his space so she could curl up into his side, using his chest as a pillow. She thought about telling Jaime that she loved him, but before she could open her mouth to say a word, a yawn broke through and she felt herself being pulled into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Sansa have finally done the deed. I loved writing this little bit because I'd been thinking about how to go about it for a while. There's so many complexities to these two and I wanted to be able to do them justice in finding some form of happiness in each other. And of course the build-up had to be decent.  
> -James


	11. Chapter 11

_-Three Months Later-_

Sansa smiled to herself as she finished the last stitch. She’d been embroidering a baby blanket for her soon to arrive niece or nephew. It was grey and edged with white snowflakes but in the middle, on the outside so the thread wouldn’t scratch at the baby’s skin, there was the sigil of House Stark in bold, black thread. Sansa shook it out and gave it a once over before nodding at it approvingly.

She’d have to show Talisa, but she was sure her good-sister would like it.

Sansa hummed to herself as she folded up the blanket and put it in the small basket of things she’d finished. The blanket had been the last and now Sansa wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself.

It felt like she’d been stitching and decorating baby things since she’d arrived at the Rock. She knew that the maids were already whispering about it behind her back and everyone was always staring at her. Well, staring at her middle. She knew it meant that everyone was hoping for a little Lannister heir, but Sansa was sure a babe would come in time. Sansa sighed and smoothed a hand over the front of her dress with just a twinge of longing.

Maybe she’d see Maester Creylen and get his advice on the subject. Sansa’s cheeks flamed at the thought and so she decided against it. Maybe Talisa would be the better one to ask. She was so open and easy to talk to and Sansa had come to love her very much.

It was decided, in Sansa’s mind, so she gathered up her basket and started down the familiar path to the cells where her mother and Talisa were locked away. She didn’t like to dwell on where her mother and heavily pregnant good-sister were staying, so she decided that when Jaime came back she would talk to him about having at least Talisa moved upstairs into one of the guest chambers.

The guard recognized Sansa immediately and let her in. “Thank you, Olyvar,” Sansa said and nodded to him gratefully. He opened the door and she walked in. “I brought some more things for the baby,” Sansa said, forcing lightness in her tone despite the curling anger in the pit of her stomach. She hated to see her family down here and the thought that even as Lady Lannister that she couldn’t do anything about it.

“Thank you, Sansa,” Talisa said from where she was sitting. She gave Sansa a tired smile. “You’ve been such a huge help.”

“We’re family,” Sansa said and settled next to her on the bed.

“You’d think since I could stitch up a wound quicker than anything I would be able to manage baby’s clothes,” Talisa joked and picked up one of the outfits Sansa had made. “Yet, I’d never be able to make anything as beautiful as these.”

“I have plenty of time for it,” Sansa said and waved off Talisa’s compliment.

“Well, then I suppose I’ll have to make some time for your lessons.” Talisa said.

“I wondered if I might ask you about something specific?” Sansa smoothed her hands over her skirts.

“Of course.”

Sansa glanced at where her mother was standing, looking out the small window. “Well, it’s a bit… embarrassing,” Sansa said, her voice hushed.

Talisa picked up on Sansa’s glance and nodded encouragingly. “Ask me anything, Sansa.”

“I wondered if there were a way to, perhaps, make it easier for me to become pregnant,” Sansa said and kept her eyes on her lap.

“Oh, sweet Sansa,” Talisa said and took Sansa’s hands. “Many a Maester will tell you to try this or that, but the only way there will be a babe is if it happens naturally. It will happen when your body is ready.”

Sansa sighed. “But… how will I _know_?” Sansa asked, feeling a little nervous talking about this with her mother in the room.

“’Tis different with every woman. Some women feel nauseous, some feel tired, some ache in their backs or bellies or hips,” Talisa said and shrugged. “The truest way is if you’ve missed your cycle for more than two months.”

Sansa nodded and she didn’t have time to process what Talisa said when Catelyn turned around, having heard their whole exchange. “Why would you want to have his child, Sansa? That man and his family has torn your own family apart.”

“Jaime has done whatever he could to keep my family together,” Sansa said and she felt a sort of protective anger well up in her as she stood. She loved her mother dearly, but how could Catelyn not see that Jaime had been trying to help?

“Your dear husband holds your brother and your mother hostage. How is that keeping us together? I have not seen Robb in _months_ , have you?” Sansa flinched. She hadn’t asked Jaime if she could see Robb.

“No,” Sansa admitted softly.

“Then he is most likely dead and rotting in some unmarked grave, far from his home…” Catelyn said darkly and Sansa felt tears burning at her eyes.

“That’s enough,” Talisa said and struggled to her feet. She wrapped her arm around Sansa’s shoulders and sent Catelyn a sharp look. “If Robb were dead, I’d feel it in my bones. I know that he is alive, so don’t torture your daughter with the thought of her brother’s death. Sansa,” Talisa said and looked Sansa in the eye, “I hope you know your husband as you think you do. If he is a good man and has done the things you said, I am happy for you and hope that you have a whole castle full of children.” Talisa gave her a smile that set Sansa’s tattered nerves at ease. Talisa leaned up to kiss her cheek gently.

“I should go,” Sansa said and she could see the flash of guilt in her mother’s eyes.

“Sweetling, please,” Catelyn said and took a half-step toward Sansa.

“I won’t have my husband insulted. Say what you will about him when I’m gone, I won’t begrudge you your opinion of him, but in front of me I won’t hear a word against him. Not after every kindness he has shown me.” Sansa gave her mother a mournful look before she walked out and made her way back up to her and Jaime’s room.

She moved her chair out onto the balcony and just listened and watched the waves roll in. She felt tears trickling down her face and she swiped at them. She heard the door open and shut behind her and she kept her eyes on the ocean.

“Sansa?” Jaime leaned down to kiss the top of her head and she closed her eyes to soak in the gentle affection. “Love, why have you been crying?”

“My mother,” Sansa said quietly, easily.

“What happened?” Sansa opened her eyes to see Jaime knelt down next to her chair.

“I went to bring the last of the baby things to Talisa,” Sansa said and looked at the seam of Jaime’s breeches. It was fraying around the knee and needed to be mended soon. “She seems very much against my being married to you. Still.”

Jaime hummed and he rested his chin on the armrest of Sansa’s chair. “Well, I didn’t exactly expect her to love the idea of you being married to a Lannister.”

“But it’s not the same with you,” Sansa protested and cradled his face between her hands. “You are so good and kind, nothing like-” Sansa bit her lip. Jaime’s face hadn’t changed but she thought better of saying such nasty things about his family. “You’re different from them. You and Tyrion both,” Sansa said, settling for at least that.

“Your mother doesn’t see that. She only knows the things I’ve done… the things I’m not proud of,” Jaime said and his eyes turned to look out over the ocean. Sansa wasn’t precisely sure of everything that he meant when he said that, but she shook her head.

“If she knew you _better_ ,” Sansa insisted and Jaime let out a humorless laugh.

“I’m sure I could have a thousand conversations with Lady Catelyn Stark and she’d never believe that I could ever love you.” Jaime’s eyes widened at the admission and Sansa felt like there were butterflies in her stomach.

They’d been intimate many times and each time made Sansa feel more loved than the last, but they’d never spoken their feelings aloud. Sansa felt a smile tug at her lips at hearing those words fall from Jaime’s lips, confirming everything she’d ever thought he might feel.

…..

            Jaime felt like an idiot just blurting out to Sansa that he loved her. He’d hoped to tell her in a little more of a romantic way. One late night when neither of them could sleep so they just stared over the ocean, over a private dinner in their chambers, after he’d made love to her. Not like this. Sansa deserved better than this.

            But then she’d smiled and Jaime had felt the familiar rush of warmth that came with his wife gracing him with that smile.

            “I love you too, Jaime,” she said and Jaime felt a rush of so many things he could hardly pin down a single one. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek and turned his face into her hair.

            She hummed and Jaime could almost feel the contentedness rolling off of her. It made him feel good that she seemed to be happy here with him.

            “What have you been up to?” Sansa asked when she looked him over and noticed the drying sweat in his hairline.

            “Sparring with Podrick,” Jaime admitted and flexed his left hand. Sansa frowned at him. “I need to keep in practice,” Jaime said with a shrug. It had been all he’d ever wanted or been good at. He wouldn’t lose it now. He’d overcome his injury and make do with what he had left.

            “You’re not a soldier anymore,” Sansa said and brushed her hand over his hair.

            “No,” Jaime admitted. “But I like it, and it’s good for Pod.” He leaned up on his knees to kiss her chastely. He stood then and moved inside to the washbasin so he would wipe the sweat and dust from his face and neck.

            Sansa followed after him and she was chewing her lip as she watched him.

            “What is it, love?” Jaime asked after he’d dried his face.

            “What do you mean?” Sansa asked innocently.

            “You’re practically chewing a hole through your very lovely bottom lip, and that usually means you want to ask me something but don’t really want to ask.” Jaime set his hand on his hip and raised an eyebrow. “Just ask, Sansa. Anything that I can give you, you know that I would gladly do so.”

            Sansa paused as she watched Jaime’s face. “I want to see Robb.”

            Jaime nodded. He had a feeling they would eventually come around to this conversation. “Sansa…” Jaime started but she cut him off quickly.

            “Just for a few moments, and I’ll even let one of the guards stand inside with me and listen to us talk. I just want to make sure he’s alright.”

            Jaime hated that he had to treat his own wife with such suspicion but he knew the moment that his father caught wind that he’d been letting Sansa see Robb Stark without any supervision, Tywin would take custody of the Young Wolf and most likely have Sansa’s head on a spike.

            “I will accompany you down to see your brother,” Jaime said. It was the best solution he could think of.

            “Thank you, Jaime!” Sansa said and she rushed to throw her arms around his neck.

            He relaxed into her and pressed his hand into the small of her back. “Don’t thank me yet,” Jaime said and when she pulled back, he took her hand.

…..

            The next day, Jaime walked her down an unfamiliar path and she stuck close to his side as they wound further and further into the labyrinth that was the cells underneath the Rock. There, at the very end of a particularly dark corridor, was a guard with only a flickering torch to see by.

            “Lord Lannister,” the man said quietly and dipped his head respectfully. “My lady.”

            Sansa gave him a weak smile.

            “Open the door,” Jaime said firmly. The guard immediately moved to follow his orders despite sending Sansa wary looks. Once the door was unlocked and opened just a bit, Jaime spoke again. “Go down to the end of the corridor. I will stand guard until my wife has finished speaking with the Young Wolf.”

            The guard looked for a moment like he wanted to argue but then he glanced between Sansa and Jaime and merely nodded. Jaime waited until he was gone to usher Sansa in the door. He left it cracked behind her and leaned back against the wall casually so she could only just see him.

            “Sansa?” Sansa wanted to cry at hearing the rumbling timbre of Robb’s voice. She turned to look at him and couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her lips.

            His hands were bound in manacles which were fastened to a heavy chain that was then fastened to a thick metal ring bolted into the stone floor. His hair was wild and dirty, blood matting it down to the skin at his temple. His beard was more than a boy’s stubble and Sansa almost wanted to demand that Jaime bring her a good blade and a bowl of warm water.

            “Robb,” Sansa breathed. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and never let go of him, but she held herself upright and proper.

            “I can’t believe you’re alive,” Robb said and took a step forward, the chain clinking noisily as he did so. He winced a little against the noise.

            “Neither can I,” Sansa said and she stepped towards him. “I thought for sure they’d kill you.” She bit her lip and touched a hand to his scratchy cheek.

            He gave her a smile. One of the stupid boyish grins he used to give her back at Winterfell, though it was a little tired around the edges. Then his eyes turned serious.

            “Have you seen Talisa? And Mother? Are they alright?” His voice had an edge of panic to it.

            “I’ve seen them both and they’re fine,” Sansa soothed and she dropped her hand from his face to pat his shoulder.

            “What about you? What have they done to you?”

            “It doesn’t matter,” Sansa said and she couldn’t quite meet Robb’s eyes then. Suddenly she worried about what her brother would think about her marriage. Would he call her a traitor? Shout at her? Say he never wanted to see her again?

            “What is it? Tell me it all, Sansa, and tell it true,” Robb said and Sansa was painfully aware of how much he sounded like their father in that moment.

            “It was terrible, Robb,” Sansa admitted and dropped her hands so that she could fold them together. “Joffrey was as cruel as could be and he… he did awful things to me. He beat me and humiliated me at every chance.” She shook her head. “Cersei belittled me and bullied me into doing things that I wasn’t sure about.” She tried not to clench her hands too hard. “I was no one and nothing in King’s Landing.” She held her chin out defiantly. “The Tyrells were the first to treat me well. Lady Olenna took me under her wing and Lady Margaery is a dear friend now.”

            “But,” Robb said and he gave Sansa a level and knowing look.

            “They married me to Jaime Lannister soon after his return to King’s Landing,” Sansa said bluntly.

            “The Kingslayer?” Robb asked.

            “Don’t… don’t call him that,” Sansa said. She knew Jaime hated the name, she had no idea why, by the way his eyes would turn dull whenever he heard it. “He was- _is_ \- good to me, Robb. He is kind and gentle and honorable.”

            “Honorable?” Robb scoffed but he didn’t continue when Sansa gave him a sharp look. “Does he love you?” Robb asked, his Tully blue eyes as grave and serious as their father’s had been.

            “Yes,” Sansa said and gave Robb a small smile.

            “And do you love him?”

            “I do.”

            Robb’s eyes flicked over his face and he cracked a small smile. “Then I suppose there’s nothing I can do about it.”

            “No, you can’t,” Sansa laughed and then Robb laughed too.

            “As long as he’s good to you,” Robb said and he moved to sit down, his shoulders slumping a little under the weight of the chain dragging at his wrists.

            Sansa moved to the door and looked at Jaime. “Can I have a bowl of warm water and a shaving knife for my brother, please?”

            Jaime nodded and went to go and tell the guard to fetch it.

            Robb’s eyes had tracked the movement and Sansa moved back to sit with him. “Not to bring down the mood,” Robb said, smiling at her, “but… you were the only one of us that was there…”

            “You want to know about Father,” Sansa said and nodded.

            Robb nodded.

            Sansa took a rallying breath and started to tell him everything that she remembered about that day. And she remembered every detail.

…..

            Jaime had the guard fetch the things Sansa had asked for and then he made his way back to his post at the door, but he made sure that he wasn’t seen or heard. He listened as Sansa told her brother about their father’s last moments. There were obvious tears in her voice and hearing the story from a young daughter’s view made Jaime feel shame curl in his gut.

            He thanked the guard when he came back and he stepped just inside the room. Sansa had wiped the tears from her face and when she saw Jaime she gave him a sad smile. He smiled back at her.

            Jaime felt another pair of eyes on him as Sansa stood and walked over to him. Robb Stark was pinning Jaime with his sternest look and Jaime swallowed thickly. He felt suddenly as if he were going to be found wanting in his good-brother’s eyes.

            “What happened there?” Robb asked and nodded to Jaime’s golden hand.

            “Robb!” Sansa said sharply.

            “No, it’s alright, love,” Jaime said and watched as Robb’s eyes narrowed a little at the endearment. “A gift from one of Bolton’s men.”

            Robb’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “I would never have allowed such behavior if I’d have known about it.”

            “But you didn’t know about it, and it’s up to Lord Bolton to keep his men in line,” Jaime said. He believed that Robb meant what he said, and he didn’t want to talk about it any more than he had to. “What’s done is done.” Jaime nodded shortly at Robb and handed the supplies over to Sansa before leaving again.

            Jaime leaned back against the wall and sighed up at the ceiling. His attention was soon drawn by the guard coming back up the corridor.

…..

            Sansa quickly washed Robb’s face and untangled his hair once the blood had been washed from it, despite his wincing and quiet protests at each pass of the cloth. She wet his face carefully as she’d seen Jaime do and gently set about shaving her brother’s face into something more manageable. He looked too young completely clean-shaven.

            She wiped the water from his face with a satisfied smile. “It seems there’s actually a man under there after all.”

            “Very funny,” Robb said and rolled his eyes.

            “Sansa-” Sansa turned at Jaime’s voice. It sounded so grave and serious and she immediately stood with the bowl and blade in her hand.

            “What is it?” Sansa asked and she could see the subtle signs of worry etched into Jaime’s features.

            “Maester Creylen needs you, urgently.”

            Sansa glanced at Robb out of the corner of her eye. “Alright then,” she said calmly. “I’ll come back and see you soon, Robb.”

            Robb just nodded, his eyes never leaving Jaime’s face.

            Sansa walked out and the guard closed and locked the door behind her and Jaime. He walked at a clipped and brusque pace that had Sansa rushing to keep up. “Jaime-”

            “Lady Stark has gone into labor,” Jaime said.

            “And Maester Creylen wants me?” Sansa asked with a confused frown.

            “No, but Lady Stark does,” Jaime said as they walked out into the main entrance hall. He took the bowl and blade from her hand and pushed them into the hands of a passing maid. Sansa nodded.

            “Take me to her.” Jaime gave her a small, proud smile before they started off again.

            She could hear Maester Creylen puttering about before she’d even stepped inside the door. It was one of the guest chambers, thankfully, and Sansa immediately rushed to be at Talisa’s side.

            “Sansa,” Talisa said shakily and Sansa took her good-sister’s hand between her own.

            “I’m here,” Sansa said and moved to wipe the sweat from Talisa’s brow.

            “It will be a long wait for the babe,” Maester Creylen said, wringing his hands. “’Tis always that way with the first.”

            “Then I suppose we’ll just have to wait, maester,” Sansa said shortly and then smiled reassuringly at Talisa. “I promise I won’t leave your side for a moment.”

            Talisa looked relieved at that.

            Sansa had a maid bring her sewing things and a few of Jaime’s more worn shirts and breeches. She’d take to her mending while they waited for the babe to be ready. She and Talisa talked lightly and Sansa told Talisa about how she’d seen Robb and how well he’d looked.

            The sun slipped down in the sky and still Maester Creylen said the babe was still not yet ready. Sansa could see that Talisa was starting to get tired and weaker as time wore on. She made it her mission to keep Talisa awake and alert.

            “Have you thought of names?” Sansa asked after a particularly strong birthing pain had left Talisa limp and shaking.

            “I’d only gotten to suggest one to Robb before everything happened,” Talisa said as Sansa moved to gently wipe the sweat from her brow. “If it’s a boy, we want to name him Eddard after your father.”

            Sansa smiled. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. I’m sure Robb was thrilled.”

            “He was,” Talisa said and smiled.

            “I think Father would have been honored,” Sansa said, just to be able to keep Talisa engaged and talking. If Talisa was talking, Sansa knew everything was alright. “He would have liked you. I know he would have. He’d have laughed at your wit and loved the way that you love Robb.”

            “I wish I could have met him.”

            Sansa nodded at that, feeling a lump in her throat that kept her from being able to respond. Thankfully, Maester Creylen cut in from his position at the foot of Talisa’s bed.

            “I think the babe may be in position,” he said as he bathed his hands. “When you feel the next pain, you should push, Lady Stark.”

            “Are you ready?” Sansa sked and she set everything aside so she could hold Talisa’s hand tightly. Talisa nodded and there was a spark of determination in her eyes that made Sansa feel assured that Talisa would be alright.

            It still took time for the babe to be brought into the world, but once Maester Creylen had the babe in his arms and was taking it to be washed and swaddled by the maids, Sansa and Talisa both started to cry.

            Sansa pressed a kiss to her good-sister’s brow before she stepped away so Maester Creylen could work and she could look at the little one that the maids were bathing.

            A boy.

            And he was perfect.

            He was squalling as the maids wiped his pink skin and then wrapped him in a soft blanket. Sansa could help but step as close as she could. He had red hair, redder than hers or Robb’s but she supposed it would likely darken with age, and an even daintier version of Talisa’s nose.

            “Let me hold him,” Sansa said and the maids nestled the boy into her arms. “Hello, little one,” she said softly and traced her finger over his blanket. “I’m your Aunt Sansa.”

            The baby’s cries had dulled down since he’d been swaddled and now he was just making soft snuffling and grunt noises that made Sansa’s heart melt.

            She wished Robb were here.

            “Sansa,” Talisa said and her voice sounded thin and ragged.

            “You have a perfect baby boy,” Sansa said as she brought the babe over to Talisa. She helped to settle him in Talisa’s waiting arms and Talisa’s brown eyes were tearful as she got to hold her son for the first time.

            “He’s beautiful,” Talisa said quietly. “Absolutely beautiful.” Sansa nodded and she could hardly take her eyes off of him. “My little Ned,” Talisa said and looked up at Sansa. Sansa felt tears pricking at her eyes all over again.

            “I think it suits him perfectly,” Sansa said and she couldn’t help the hiccupping little laugh that she let out.

            “I do too.”

            “I should tell Robb,” Sansa said and smoothed out her wrinkled skirt. “I’ll be right back.” She rushed from the room and nearly crashed into her husband.

            “Everything alright?” Jaime asked and caught her shoulders.

            “He’s perfect,” Sansa said and rocked on her feet.

            “A boy then.”

            “Yes,” Sansa said and her cheeks ached with how much she was smiling. “I was just on my way to tell Robb.”

            “I’ll escort you,” Jaime said and Sansa nodded. They walked down together but this time he left Sansa alone with Robb.

            “What is it?” Robb asked from where it looked as if he’d been trying to get some sleep.

            “I came to congratulate you,” Sansa said. “You have a very beautiful and healthy baby boy.”

            Robb sat up and his eyes widened. “A boy?”

            “A boy.” Sansa nodded.

            Robb let out a whoop and jumped to his feet before running over to Sansa and hugging her as best he could with his hands still bound together. Robb’s whole frame tensed against her before he pulled back. “And Talisa? Is she alright?”

            “They’re both fine. Resting upstairs as we speak,” Sansa said and Robb’s shoulders relaxed.

            “Tell me about him,” Robb said and gestured impatiently for her to speak.

            “He’s got red hair,” Sansa started and couldn’t contain the joy in her voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell what you guys thought about this chapter. I've been sitting on this for a little while but now I'm glad it's out so y'all can read. Updates will probably still be very spotty but I hope to keep trucking along even at a slower pace.  
> -James


	12. Chapter 12

                Jaime walked down the corridor and his boots echoed hollowly in the space. He nodded to the guard as he got to the door and he opened it without a word. Jaime stepped inside and let the door click shut behind him.

            “Lady Catelyn,” Jaime said quietly and watched as the woman, who was staring out the thin, barred window, turned to stare at him with cold eyes.

            “Kingslayer,” Catelyn said and Jaime squared his shoulders. “What are you doing here?”

            “I came to talk with you,” Jaime said and gestured for her to sit. He sat on the bed that had been Talisa’s and she hesitantly settled on the edge of her own.

            “About what?”

            “About my wife, your daughter,” Jaime said.

            “And what would you like to talk about?” Lady Catelyn asked sharply. “You took my daughter away from me instead of sending her home like you promised.”

            “I promised I would do everything that I could, and I did. I told my father to send your girls home and he refused,” Jaime said with an edge to his voice. “So I decided to try and keep my oath by protecting her.”

            “Protecting her?” Catelyn scoffed.

            “Being my wife took Sansa away from Joffrey as his play-thing to torment whenever he felt the urge. My father would have never abided the shame it would cast upon the Lannister family.” Jaime shook his head. “I’ve done what I can to protect her and make her happy. Make sure she’s shown a little kindness and love in this ugly world we live in. That’s the only protect that any of us can truly give to those we care for.”

            Jaime’s speech had been more heated than he’d meant for it to be. Lady Catelyn blinked at him for a long moment. “You love her? Truly?”

            “More than anything,” Jaime said.

            She studied him for a long moment before she sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping with weariness that Jaime was sure weighed down all their shoulders. “All I ask is that you keep her safe.”

            “I intend to keep this family safe,” Jaime said. To anyone else it might have sounded like he was talking about the Lannisters, but Jaime considered the Starks part of his family now as well. Perhaps they were more his family than his father and sister were to him anymore. It seemed Lady Catelyn took his meaning and her eyes narrowed for a moment but then there was a wash of relief over her face and she merely nodded.

…..

            Sansa stared at herself in the mirror and she tilted her head a little as if just by looking at her reflection differently it might change something. She turned a little but still her reflection was her own.

            Soon enough she supposed that reflection would change.

            Sansa was pregnant. She was almost completely sure of it.

            Even just thinking it shocked her and she smoothed a hand over the front of her dress as if she’d be able to feel the difference.

            She supposed she’d have to talk to Maester Creylen to have it all confirmed but she’d missed her last three courses and just today she’d woken up, alone due to Jaime having left earlier in the morning, and been sick.

            It’d passed quickly, but she remembered what Talisa had said and a flicker of hope had settled itself into her chest. She pulled a robe around herself and opened the door to see Podrick standing outside with Brienne. “Might one of you fetch Maester Creylen? I’m feeling a bit ill,” Sansa said.

            “I’ll go, my lady,” Podrick said and immediately left to do so.

            Maester Creylen came quickly and Sansa told him about her symptoms quietly. A spark lit up in his eyes and after a few moments of poking and prodding, he happily confirmed what Sansa had suspected. She thanked him as he left.

            Only a moment later did Jaime return, his brow furrowed in concern. “I just passed Maester Creylen in the hall. Are you alright, love?” Jaime asked. “Are you ill?”

            “I’m fine,” Sansa said and she held out her hands for him. He took her hand and she pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “I felt ill this morning, it passed,” Sansa reassured when Jaime opened his mouth, “but I wanted to speak to Maester Creylen anyway.” Sansa felt nervous as she continued. “He told me what I already thought… I’m with child.”

            He seemed stunned.

            Sansa suddenly wondered if he wasn’t happy about the news. They’d never talked about children, but Sansa just assumed… perhaps she’d been wrong to. Before she could fully succumb to her fears, Jaime’s face broke into a smile.

            He scooped her up and spun her around, nearly making Sansa shriek for fear he would drop her. She clung onto his shoulders and when he set her down, her head still reeling, he kissed her fiercely.

            She held onto him and pressed in as close as possible. When he pulled back he peppered her face with kisses and she laughed. “You’re pleased then?”

            “More than pleased,” Jaime said and gave her another kiss before stroking his thumb over her cheekbone. She leaned into the soft touch.

            “Good,” she said and she let her eyes slip shut.

…..

            Sansa’s news hit Jaime square in the chest like a well-aimed kick. He certainly hadn’t expected a child so soon. While technically Jaime had fathered other children, this would be the first child that was truly _his_. Myrcella was close with him now, he’d just received a letter from her days ago that he’d been meaning to respond to, and if Jaime had any inclination to stay in King’s Landing, he’d have tried to be a guiding hand for Tommen, but he’d never been able to be their father.

            Sansa had gone to attend to Lady Stark and baby Ned, and no doubt to tell her good-sister about the news. It brought a smile to his face as he moved to sit down and write out a few letters. One would be a response to Myrcella, including an invitation to stay at the Rock for a time if she’d like. He thought about writing one to Tommen as well, but then he thought better of it. Tommen would have enough on his mind without Jaime writing him. He had a letter penned to his father about Sansa’s pregnancy, but instead of sealing it he threw it into the fireplace.

            He didn’t know what possessed him, but he didn’t regret it in the slightest. He sealed the letter to Myrcella and took it to Maester Creylen to send off. Maester Creylen handed him a letter that had come in that morning for him and another for Sansa, and Jaime took them with him back to his chambers.

            He opened it and inside was a declaration written about the engagement of King Tommen Baratheon to Lady Margaery Tyrell that also served as an invitation to their wedding. Jaime traced his finger over the seal of the Hand and frowned to himself. He supposed that despite her mechanizations with Joffrey, most likely due to his temper, Margaery was a sweet enough girl. Sansa liked her and the Tyrells had done just as much to protect Sansa as he had.

            He set aside the letter for Sansa and decided to go about his day as normal. He’d train with Podrick and Brienne, then hear his councilors in matters concerning the Westerlands, then he’d have dinner with Sansa and they’d both go to bed.

…..

            Sansa hummed quietly as she rocked baby Ned while Talisa rested. She still felt drained from the birth and Sansa was more than happy to spend time with her nephew. He was a sweet baby and mostly slept.

            A maid came in and softly offered to take the baby, but Sansa turned her down. “We’re quite alright here, thank you,” Sansa said. She didn’t truly think anyone would hurt the baby, but she couldn’t say that she fully trusted everyone on the staff at the Rock. She didn’t know them and they were more likely to be loyal to Lord Tywin than to Sansa or Jaime.

            She only woke Talisa when the baby started to cry and wouldn’t be settled. “He’s hungry,” Talisa said as she took Ned into her arms with a fond smile. She was feeding him when her face turned said. “I wish Robb could see him.”

            Sansa chewed her lip. “Perhaps I could take him down,” Sansa suggested. “Just for a little while and I’ll never leave him alone for a moment.”

            “You are the most wonderful sister,” Talisa said as she smoothed Ned’s hair back.

            “Robb deserves to be able to see his baby son,” Sansa said resolutely. “I’ll bringing him down sometime after his supper so he’ll be settled and sleepy.” Talisa smiled and nodded at that.

            Sansa sat with Talisa and baby Ned for a while longer before she made her way back to her and Jaime’s chambers. He was in the middle of a bath and she pressed a soft kiss to the crown of his head.

            “You’re back,” Jaime said and his smile made her feel warm and soft all over.

            “I am,” she said and moved to sit by the edge of the tub. She traced her fingers over his arm.

            “There’s a letter come for you,” Jaime said and nodded toward the desk. “Most likely from Lady Margaery.”

            “What would make you say that?” Sansa asked as she got up and moved over to the desk so she could open her letter.

            “Because I got an invitation to Tommen and Margaery’s wedding. They’ve officially been betrothed.”

            “They’d be a good fit for each other I think,” Sansa said as she unfolded the letter. It was from Margaery and as Sansa scanned her eyes over it, it seemed like Margaery was much happier with this king than her last.

            “I do as well,” Jaime said. “The wedding with be in a month or so, if you feel up to traveling to the capital.” Sansa knew that Jaime was giving her an out and she appreciated it greatly.

            “I’ll write to Margaery and then we’ll just have to see how I feel in a month’s time,” Sansa said and smoothed her fingers over the curling script of her friend’s handwriting. She knew that she needed to show herself at court, for herself if nothing else. She would face these people as the Lady of Casterly Rock and she would not cower before them. She was a wolf dressed as a lioness, and they should fear both personas. She smiled a little at that.

            Jaime got out of his bath and dried off quickly before redressing. She smiled at his back before she pulled a leaf of paper and something to write with so she could write Margaery back.

            He moved over once he was properly dressed so he could press a kiss to her cheek. “I’ll be down in the hall listening to petitions. If you need me.”

            “I’ll come if I need anything,” Sansa assured.

            Jaime pressed another quick kiss to her forehead before he left. She scratched out her reply to Margaery and sealed it. She left it on the desk and decided she’d take a walk outside along the beach. Brienne came along with her.

            She walked along with her shoes in her hands and thought about the life that she was building here. Soon she would have a child of her own to raise. The thought made her smile as she imagined blonde little boys and little girls with bright green eyes. But it also made her a little sad. Her children would probably never get to see the North. It was beautiful in a different, harsher way than the it was here.

            She hoped that baby Ned and her children would be able to see the North, at least one day. She walked for a few hours but then Brienne, who’d stayed farther inland, was calling her. “Lady Sansa! It’s going to start getting dark soon!”

            Sansa nodded. “I’m coming!” She slipped her shoes back on and made her way toward where her sworn shield was waiting for her. “Just enjoying the last light of the day,” Sansa said with a smile.

            “We don’t want to be caught outside of the Rock after dark,” Brienne said as they walked.

            “You’re right, of course,” Sansa said and nodded. They walked up the hill and then into the courtyard. “I’ll be alright from here,” Sansa said and she gave Brienne a nod.

…..

            Jaime finished up his business and made his way back to his and Sansa’s chambers so that they could both change for supper. Jaime was surprised that she wasn’t there, but he supposed she’d found something to do and he wouldn’t begrudge her that. He knew that even with the necessity of his routine, it could still become dull at times.

            He was finishing up when Sansa came in. She seemed pleased and flushed with triumph and Jaime just smiled to himself at seeing her so. “Good day?” He asked and she seemed startled at the question.

            “Yes,” she said and moved to her vanity. She unplaited it and then brushed it out.

            “You seemed happy,” Jaime said.

            “I have a great deal to be happy about, at the moment,” Sansa said and smiled at him through her reflection.

            “I suppose we do, don’t we?” Jaime grinned and moved to press a kiss to her shoulder. Sansa swatted at him playfully as she pushed her hair back from her eyes. She was leaving it loose.

            Jaime held out his arm for her and she took it once she’d smoothed her skirts out. “Ready, love?” Jaime asked.

            “Ready.”

            They went down the hall together and right as they were about to step inside, Podrick caught up with them. “My lord! My lady!” Podrick sucked in a lungful of breath. “There’s a messenger for you at the gate, says it’s urgent.”

            Jaime nodded and they both headed that direction. The messenger had been allowed into the courtyard and he bowed to them. “My lord, my lady. A message from the Hand of the King.” He held out a sealed piece of parchment and Jaime took it.

            “A room and a hot meal for this man,” Jaime said to one of the guards.

            “What could your father want?” Sansa asked and her fingers were clutching onto Jaime’s sleeve tightly.

            “Suppose we should just open it and find out.” Jaime took a breath before he broke open the seal. He scanned his eyes over his father’s words and let out his breath shakily. “He wants me to return to the capital.”

            “Does he say why?” Sansa asked.

            “He gives no reason, just that I’m to return as soon as possible.” Jaime frowned and he looked at Sansa. She had her blank, court expression on her face and it felt like a knife in Jaime’s gut.

            “Let’s go to supper,” she said and Jaime shoved the letter into his pocket and tried to push it from his mind. It hung like a cloud over their heads throughout dinner, not that anyone would have been able to tell on Sansa’s part. She was perfectly charming and witty and wonderful, but Jaime could see the strain of it around her eyes.

            They finished up supper, made the rounds with everyone, and then went to bed. Jaime quietly pulled his clothes off and set them aside as Sansa brushed her hair quietly and then moved to take off her necklace. When she stood and gathered her hair so that it didn’t hang down her back, Jaime moved over and unlaced her dress.

            They were completely quiet as they both readied for bed and it wasn’t until they were settled together that Sansa spoke. “I don’t want you to go back to that place,” Sansa said and she smoothed her thumb over Jaime’s collarbone. “I don’t like the thought of you there. It’s… gods, it’s terrible.”

            “It’s most likely only for a short while,” Jaime said and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

            “If it was something simple your father wouldn’t have called you to the capital. He’d have just asked in his letter and waited for your reply.” Sansa pressed her face into his neck. “We’re happy here, why does he have to come along and ruin it?”

            “We’ll be just as happy when I return,” Jaime promised and rubbed her back. Sansa didn’t say anything and Jaime wasn’t going to push her. “I love you.”

            “Show me,” she said, her voice coming out small. Jaime frowned but she just pushed herself up so she could look him. “Show me how much you love me,” she said. She shifted so that she was straddling his thighs and then took the hem of her shift, already bunched up around her thighs, so she could pull it off.

            “Gladly,” Jaime said and he pulled her in for a kiss.

            When they made love it was usually tender and slow. Jaime enjoyed being able to feel closer to Sansa in a way that went beyond the physical aspect of it. He felt more secure that she was pleased and that he wasn’t doing anything that made her uncomfortable or was hurting her. He let her set the pace and she was tentative at first but then the speed had a sensual element to it. It was deliberate, Jaime could see it in her eyes when she’d arch up into him.

            Tonight was different.

            They could both feel it lingering in the air and Sansa was all desperately grabbing hands and insistent kisses that left Jaime feeling as if his mouth would be bruised tomorrow morning. He pressed kisses into her skin at every given opportunity, determined to show her his devotion by all but branding it into her skin with his mouth.

            She had no such restraint.

            Her nails dug into the back of his neck, his shoulders, his hip. She pulled at his hair and nibbled and sucked marks into his neck and collar.

            Their lovemaking was marked with a hint of desperation and urgency that, except for the very first time, they’d never felt the need for.

            Jaime made Sansa fall apart twice, once with his fingers and the other with his mouth, before they did together. Jaime went to move away but she held him there, her knees squeezing his hips and her hands pressing on his shoulders.

            “Just a few more moments,” Sansa said and she pressed her face into Jaime’s sweat-damp hair. She brushed a kiss to his temple before he turned his face to kiss her properly.

            “Have I given you sufficient evidence, my lady?” Jaime asked with a light chuckle.

            “I think you have, now all I need you to do is come back to me in once piece,” she said and held his face between her hands.

            “I’ll always come back to you,” he promised and kissed her cheek as he finally pulled away from her. She curled into him and Jaime felt a tug of affection under his ribs.

            He didn’t know what his father wanted, but if it had anything to do with ruining the family and happiness he’d finally managed to find, he would turn his back on House Lannister for good. An idea occurred to Jaime as he listened to Sansa slowly fall asleep. It would enrage his father, but he would do it anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tywin's screwing everything up, y'all.  
> -James


	13. Chapter 13

            Sansa didn’t sleep particularly well that night so she was awake before Jaime was that morning. She thought about getting out of bed and starting to pack some of his things, but she couldn’t tear herself away from him. She just watched as the light became stronger and played across his features.

            He had long, dark lashes that Sansa knew for a fact most ladies would kill for. The bridge of his nose was mostly straight except for a slight crookedness near the top. She didn’t know what it was from. She suddenly wished she’d asked. She continued studying his face. He would need shave because the light stubble that he usually kept was starting to grow in. There were a few small scars that nicked his face but didn’t take away from his handsomeness in the slightest. His hair, burnished gold the first time she’d laid eyes on him, was now a few shades darker and, not that she would ever tell him, flecked at the temple with grey.

            She reached out and smoothed down his hair, still standing up wildly from the previous night, and with a deep breath, his eyes started to open.

            “Good morning,” Jaime said, his voice low and scratchy with sleep. He turned his face into her touch and pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist.

            “Morning,” she said and leaned in to kiss him.

            It was lazy and sweet but it did little to reassure Sansa of everything she worried about. Jaime brushed his nose against hers when they parted and they just lay there, tangled together, until Sansa couldn’t stand it anymore. She pulled away and moved to grab up her robe and pull it on.

            “I should have the staff start to ready things for your trip,” Sansa said and she moved around the room restlessly as she gathered some things of Jaime’s to pack away for him.

            “I won’t be gone long,” Jaime said.

            “I should hope not,” Sansa said as she carefully folded one of Jaime’s shirts. She smoothed the fabric and avoided his eyes.

            She felt like a pouty child at wanting him to stay here with her. In their little bubble it was almost like all the ugliness of the world, centered particularly around King’s Landing, couldn’t touch them. It was like it didn’t exist. She wanted it to stay that way so she could be happy with her husband and the child that would be born in the coming months.

            But it couldn’t be that way. Sansa knew that better than anyone.

            “Sansa,” Jaime said softly and took her hand. She hadn’t even noticed him get out of their bed. He swiped his thumb over the back of her knuckles. “It’s going to be alright.”

            “Of course,” Sansa said and gave him a rather unconvincing smile. “Come back to me. That’s all I ask.”

            “A request I will be more than happy to indulge,” Jaime said.

            “I’m serious.” Sansa lifted her eyes to his.

            “So am I,” Jaime said and brought her hand up so he could kiss her knuckles. “I will come back, completely unchanged. I promise.”

            Sansa knew that wasn’t exactly something he could promise, but she accepted it as the best she could hope for.

…..

            After their moment in the bedroom, Jaime truly got to work getting everything ready to head back to the capital. He pushed his hand through his hair as he observed the men and household staff milling about at the necessary tasks.

            Brienne came up to him and bumped their shoulders. “You sent for me?” Brienne asked and tilted her head.

            “I wanted to ask you a favor.” Jaime looked over at her.

            “Whatever I can do,” Brienne said with just a hint of hesitation in her voice. Jaime nodded for her to follow him. They walked away from the bustling courtyard so that they wouldn’t be overheard.

            “I have a special task for you. I know you swore your allegiance to Sansa, to protect her, but there’s a more pressing matter I’d like for you to see to.”

            Brienne studied his face for a long moment. “What is it, Jaime?” She asked finally.

Jaime cracked a smile.

…..

            Sansa oversaw the packing of Jaime’s things herself. She tucked his things away gently and smoothed them out so that they wouldn’t crease on their journey. It was all in an attempt to try and quiet her mind. To tune out and ignore her fears.

            She smiled and thanked the men that came for the trunk and she felt like a puppet with cut strings once she sat down, no longer having any tasks to accomplish. She smoothed her skirts and steeled herself. She didn’t want to look like a weepy child in front of all these Lannisters when she saw Jaime off.

            She nearly jumped when she heard a knock on the door. It was just a maid telling her that everything was ready in the courtyard and the men were waiting to be seen off. Sansa thanked her with a smile that didn’t feel genuine before she stood and walked down to the courtyard, every inch the perfect lady.

            She stood by as the men mounted up, expecting Jaime to do so as well and then leave with a wave. It was customary and nothing that Sansa hadn’t seen a million times before. But Jaime handed off his reins to Podrick, saying something to the squire that Sansa couldn’t hear, before he walked over to her.

            “My lady,” he said just a moment before he kissed her. She tried not to cling, but her fingers wound their way into his leather tunic regardless. “Soon,” he said when he pulled away, their foreheads pressed together.

            “Yes,” she said and smoothed down his tunic where she’d rumpled it.

            He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before he made his way back over to his horse. He mounted up smoothly and she chewed her lip as she watched him. She smiled at him when he looked to her. He dipped his head to her and she waved to him.

            The small retinue left the courtyard and Sansa waited until the small cloud of dust had settled again and she couldn’t hear the rumbling of the horse’s hooves. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then turned to head back inside. With Jaime gone, the duties of running the Rock would fall to her.

…..

            Brienne knocked on her door later that evening when Sansa was repairing some of the more worn pieces of Jaime’s clothing that he refused to get rid of. “Come in,” Sansa said and set the needlework aside.

            “My lady, I have a matter that I need to discuss with you… if you have the time,” Brienne said and Sansa waved off the last part.

            “I always have time for you, Brienne. What can I do?”

            “It’s concerning the release of your family.”

            Sansa’s eyes narrowed at that. “I’m sorry…. What?”

            “Did Jaime not tell you?” Brienne asked, her brow furrowed. “He wants me to escort your mother, good-sister, and nephew back to Winterfell.”

            Sansa felt tears pricking at her eyes. “He didn’t tell me.”

            Brienne smiled at that. “He said that he wanted me to wait until dark to make sure that most of his men were gone.” Brienne shifted on her feet. “Would you take me down to your mother’s cell and then to your good-sister’s room.”

            “Of course,” Sansa said and stood, immediately, to sweep from the room. She felt a thrill as they were walking down towards where her mother was being held. The guard that was down there frowned at her.

            “Lady Lannister,” he said and dipped his head.

            “You’re dismissed from your post, ser. Lady Brienne will be handling my mother’s guard,” Sansa said with an edge of authority.

            “My lady-”

            “This is not up for discussion. It was approved by Lord Jaime himself.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

            “Yes, my lady,” he said and took the keys off his belt. She held out her hand and he placed them there.

            “Thank you, ser,” Sansa said and she gave him a smile. He blinked a little at her before he dipped into a bow and left. Sansa waited for a moment before she took the key and put it into the door.

            Her mother was sitting despondently but once the door was open she seemed to straighten up. She looked at Sansa with bright eyes. “Mother,” Sansa said and smiled at her. “Brienne is going to take you home. You, Talisa, and Ned.”

            “What are you talking about?” Catelyn asked as she stood.

            “Jaime is releasing you,” Sansa said and took her mother’s hand. “But we have to go quickly.” Her tone left no room for argument and so they all walked quickly and unseen through the mostly deserted corridors until they were outside the room where Talisa and baby Ned were.

            Sansa walked in and hurriedly closed the door behind her mother and Brienne. She bolted the door and leaned back against it. “Sansa?” Talisa asked, looking startled.

            “We need to gather up your things,” Sansa said, already moving to where she knew Talisa had organized Ned’s clothing and blankets. “Jaime has released you. You two and my mother will be escorted by Lady Brienne to Winterfell.”

            Talisa’s eyes widened before she immediately moved into action to start packing the little things that were around the room.

            “I can’t leave you here,” Catelyn said, taking Sansa’s arm to stop her. “Not with these people.”

            “I am their lady. They wouldn’t dare to lay a finger on me.” Sansa’s shoulders straightened. “You have to go home to Winterfell.”

            “I will not leave you and I will not leave Robb,” Catelyn said and Sansa could tell that here mother truly had no intentions of budging. Sansa slumped a little.

            “Then we have to get Talisa and Ned back home at least,” Sansa said. She pulled away from her mother’s grip to finish helping Talisa pack up her and the baby’s things. “Brienne will take them down and out through the lower gate. There are little to no guards left down there and that should give them a good start in case anyone were to come looking for them.” Brienne nodded and put a hand to her sword. Sansa just prayed that everything would work out. She wanted her family, as much of it as she could manage, safe.

…..

            “You should have gone with them,” Sansa said softly though the part of her that was still that idealistic girl was glad that she would have her mother by her side.

            “Talisa is strong, and the Northmen will protect her,” Catelyn said as they kept their eyes on the road, watching Brienne, Talisa and the baby slowly disappear into the dark. “I can’t leave you with these people. Not again.”

            “Jaime would protect me. He loves me,” Sansa said and looked over to Catelyn, eyebrow raised as if daring her mother to contradict that statement.

            “Sometimes love isn’t enough.”

            The thought made Sansa feel cold all the way down to her bones.

…..

            Jaime felt worn down before he’d even arrived at the capitol. He slid down from his horse and wasn’t surprised to see that no one in his family seemed to be there to greet him. His father was probably too busy imposing his will over poor Tommen in the guise of advisement, and his sweet sister was… well, Jaime didn’t want to give much thought to Cersei at the moment.

            “Uncle Jaime!” Jaime looked up from where he’d been tucking his riding gloves into his belt to see Myrcella standing there, lit up like a sunbeam. He smiled just as brightly at her as she ran down the steps.

            “Myrcella,” Jaime said and wrapped his arms around her once she’d thrown herself into his chest. “I’d have thought you’d be back in Dorne by now, though I’m selfishly glad that you’re not.” He smiled into her hair before she pulled back just enough to look into his eyes.

            “Uncle Oberyn has been appointed a seat on the small council, to represent Dorne, and Prince Doran decided to have Trystane stay to learn about different kinds of ruling.” Myrcella shrugged.

            “That’s good,” Jaime said and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “For now, sweetling, I’m afraid I have to visit your grandfather.”

            Myrcella’s face darkened a smidge at the mention of him but then she nodded seriously. “Of course. I’ll see you at supper tonight.”

            “I’ll be there.” Jaime brushed a quick kiss to her forehead before letting her go so he could start up the seemingly endless path to his father’s solar. He knocked briefly before entering and making himself comfortable. His father gave him a stern look, but Jaime elected to ignore it in favor of pouring himself a drink.

            “You’ve been busy at the Rock,” Tywin said, his eyes narrowing.

            “That was the whole point, was it not?” Jaime asked, quirking an unimpressed eyebrow. “You wanted me to marry Sansa Stark, I did, and you wanted me to rule the Rock, and I am.”

            “You’re the one ruling the Rock?”

            “What are you trying to imply?” Jaime asked snappishly, the fatigue getting to him.

            “I just got word that your little wife has released Talisa Stark and Robb Stark’s heir,” Tywin said, cutting directly to the point.

            “She didn’t, I did,” Jaime said and kept his eyes locked on his father’s.

            “And why in the seven hells would you do that?” Tywin demanded angrily.

            “Robb Stark is the enemy. Not his wife, not his son. The boy can’t even hold up his own head, let alone a sword,” Jaime said.

            “And what will you do when the Northmen rise up behind the banner of this boy?” Tywin asked. “What will you do when they march on the capitol to sack the city, or burn it to the ground?” Jaime couldn’t repress the flinch at the memories that phrase brought to mind.

            “They won’t,” Jaime said, albeit a little breathlessly.

            “You had better be certain,” Tywin snapped.

            Jaime nodded like a contrite school-boy and settled in his chair. “That can’t be what you called me here for,” Jaime pointed out.

            “No, it was not,” Tywin said. “It’s about your sister.” Tywin’s voice was as pinched as his expression.

            “And you think _I’m_ going to be able to convince her to go along with whatever plan you’ve concocted?” Jaime shook his head in disbelief. “No one, least of all me, commands Cersei.”

            “She will have to relent if she knows there is no one to which she can turn,” Tywin said. “You will make that clear to her. Is that understood?”

            Jaime just ground his teeth before nodding. “If it gets me back home to my wife, then fine.”

            “And how is that?” Tywin asked though Jaime knew that his father wasn’t asking about his marital happiness.

            “Well, you’ll be pleased to know that I’ve secured an heir for House Lannister,” Jaime said, quirking a wry smile. It was something that he was truly excited about, but telling his father served to dampen his excitement. “Lady Sansa told me that she was with child before I left for King’s Landing.”

            That seemed to perk his father up a little. Tywin’s lips quirked up in the closest thing that Jaime would ever see on his father’s face. “That’s excellent news.”

            “We were both pleased,” Jaime said. He took a breath before he got up. “I should go and talk to Cersei. The faster I see what she’s thinking, the faster I can go home.”

…..

            “If Father thinks using you against me will work, he’s wrong!” Cersei raged as she stormed around her chambers.

            “I told him much the same, but you know that once he’s got his mind set to something, it’s just a matter of time before he has it,” Jaime said tiredly and moved to settle in a chair.

            “I won’t be sold again!” Cersei hissed. “How can you let him do this to me?” Jaime looked at her helplessly. “Are you truly so uncaring for me that you’ll let him send me away with another brute?”

            “That’s not fair,” Jaime said breathlessly. Much of the resentment he’d held for Cersei while he was with Sansa had gone to the back of his mind at being faced with her pleading green eyes.

            “You’re so absorbed in your own happiness that you’ve completely forgotten about and abandoned me. You were all I had left,” Cersei said and she moved closer to him.

            “Cersei…” Jaime said and let her take his hand against his better judgement.

            “Jaime, please,” she said and moved to sit on his thigh, her other hand coming up to cradle his face. He tipped his hand into her palm out of reflex. “If you love me, help me get out of this.”

            “Of course I love you,” Jaime said, stung that she would imply otherwise. “But… Father-”

            “Fuck Father,” Cersei said harshly, though her thumb swiped over Jaime’s cheek tenderly. “We’re all that matter. Us and our children.” Cersei leaned in and kissed him.

            Jaime knew it would be so easy to just let himself be swept up into the familiar cycle with Cersei. But he has Sansa now and their baby. He puled away and shook his head. “Cersei… I can’t do this.”

            Cersei’s face twisted darkly and she ripped herself away from Jaime, leaving Jaime feeling cold and bereft. He managed to stifle the soft noise of loss. “I should have known you’d be like the rest! All of you are the same! You pretend to care until it doesn’t suit you anymore.” Jaime’s ears were ringing loudly as Cersei’s tirade continued.

            It hit Jaime hard. Everything Cersei was saying about him: that he didn’t truly love her, he just wanted to use her for the thing between her legs and for his own ends. Jaime realized that it wasn’t him that was doing these things, but her. She had used him time and again to try and slip out of plans their father had set out. He’d felt, at the time, so loved and secure that he didn’t care, but now he just felt like he needed to scrub all evidence of her off his skin.

            “You can’t get rid of me!” Cersei hissed, snapping Jaime out of his musing. “If you leave me, if you even _think_ of leaving me for that little Stark bitch, I will tear your happiness to the ground. I’ll tell her everything. About you and I, about our children, about what you did to her little brother, the boy you crippled.”

            Cersei’s eyes were crazed in a way that made Jaime feel nauseous.

            “You wouldn’t,” Jaime said, his mouth dry.

            “I would,” Cersei said in a way that made Jaime flinch back away from her. This must have been the Cersei that had instilled such fear into his wife.

            “I don’t believe you,” Jaime said in a cracked voice. He stood and marched himself out, not able to bear looking at her for one more second. He felt disgusted with himself for all the reasons that he’d ignored earlier. And now he had the impending sense of doom that Cersei would tell Sansa and Sansa would hold the same contempt for him that he was feeling for himself.

            He resolved then and there that the moment he got back, no matter the consequences, that he would talk to Sansa about all this. If anything could cushion the blow of everything that had to be said, it would be it coming from Jaime’s mouth instead of Cersei using it to hurt or torture her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry that I haven't updated in so long. Uni has been kicking my ass lately. I will try to update more consistently but I can't make any promises.


	14. Chapter 14

            Jaime had hardly had the stomach to linger in King’s Landing for longer than he had to. He wanted to be back with Sansa in a place that didn’t make him feel like he constantly had to be looking over his shoulder. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to be on guard so often.

            His father, Tommen, Myrcella, and Trystane were the only ones that saw him off. Jaime was relieved that Cersei hadn’t decided to try one last time to convince him to come to her side.

            Myrcella came up and hugged him. “I wish you could stay longer,” she said and Jaime sighed heavily as well.

            “I wish we had more time,” Jaime said and rubbed her back consolingly. “Maybe you could come visit the Rock.” Jaime tucked her hair behind her ear and tapped her nose like she was still a little girl.

            “I’d like that.” She smiled at him. “Tommen, come say goodbye to Uncle Jaime.”

            Tommen glanced at Tywin for a moment before he came over to stand next to his sister, her arm coming up to wrap around his shoulders. “You’re also welcome anytime, Tommen,” Jaime said and clapped a hand down on Tommen’s shoulder.

            “The king’s place is in King’s Landing,” Tywin said but Jaime just shot him a dark look.

            “I’d like that,” Tommen said quietly and gave Jaime a shy smile.

            Jaime looked over at where his men were waiting. “I should go,” Jaime said and he gave them both reluctant smiles.

            “We’ll see you soon,” Myrcella said and got on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. Jaime nodded and he moved over to pull himself into the saddle. He settled and he gave a short wave to his two children and they waved back.

…..

            Jaime felt just as tired coming home as he had when he arrived at King’s Landing. He slumped down off his horse and he ran his fingers through his hair to try and get it into some semblance of order. Nerves had settled into his gut and, mixed with the exhaustion, made him feel jittery and shaky.

            He took a deep breath before he made his way up towards his and Sansa’s room where he presumed his wife would be. He tugged his riding gloves off and tucked them into his belt clumsily.

            He slipped inside their room. “Sansa?” He called, his voice clearly strained. He heard a soft clatter and then Sansa was in the doorway of their bed chamber, smiling at him. His eyes immediately drifted down to where now Sansa’s stomach was rounded with their baby. Her hand, almost absently, settled there and Jaime felt himself smile.

            “You’re back,” Sansa said and she moved forward to hug him tightly, pressing kisses to his cheek and then his shoulder so that she didn’t have to pull away from him.

            “I’m back,” Jaime said softly. The smile faltered a little as he realized what he was going to have to tell her. It would change everything, and Jaime finally felt like he finally had some sort of contentment.  He pulled back just a little, opening his mouth to speak, but she ducked in and kissed him so softly that Jaime felt his heart crack just a little.

            She pulled back and gave him a clearly concerned look. “Jaime… is everything alright?”

            Jaime felt like his throat was stuck together. He knew he should tell her, she had every right to know and in all honesty Jaime should have told her sooner, but on the other hand he knew that she would hate him for everything he’d done and he didn’t want to lose her.

            He swallowed thickly and took a breath. “Let me get changed out of these and then let’s take a walk. I missed you.”

            Sansa nodded and she let him go so he could go into the bedroom and change into some fresh clothes.

…..

            Sansa was glad for Jaime to be home, but something was off about him. He looked worn out and faded in a way that made her chest tighten uncomfortably. She tried to brush it off and just attribute it to his long journey and whatever matter Lord Tywin had wanted him for.

            Once Jaime was changed and had run a comb through his hair, he offered her his arm and she gladly took it. The walk was quiet, but not in the contented way that was typical for them. It was tense and awkward and threaded with anticipation.

            They went out into the garden and strolled along for a little while before Jaime tugged on her arm. “Let’s sit,” Jaime said and they moved to one of the secluded benches that were interspersed throughout the gardens. Sansa settled and she reached for his hands, cradling both of them between her own. He wouldn’t meet her eye despite her fishing for his gaze.

            “Jaime, what’s going on?” Sansa asked quietly.

            After a long silence, Jaime spoke. “I need to tell you something.” His voice was quiet but raw and broken. “You’re going to hate me.”

            “I could never hate you,” Sansa said but a part of her reminded her that she _had_ hated Jaime in the past. Would it be easy to slip back into that hate after so much love had grown between them? Sansa didn’t know.

            “You will, and I will not blame you for it,” Jaime said. He swallowed thickly and squared his shoulders before looking at her. He took a shaky breath and pulled away from her completely. “Sansa, I like to think that I’m a better man now then I was before. But… but that doesn’t absolve me from the things I did before I became that better person. I hurt people. I did terrible things in the name of what I thought was love, but I was wrong and what I did was wrong and I knew it.” Sansa blinked but didn’t interrupt. Obviously, Jaime needed to get all of this off his chest, but she was frightened of the haunted and hollow look in his eyes. “Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen… they are my children… my children with Cersei.” The bluntness of the confession felt like a strike across the face. Sansa’s stomach roiled and she flinched away from his words. “For years I believed that what was between Cersei and I was love, and I was wrong. She never loved me, but I did, truly, love her. She was my other half, a part of my soul that resided outside of myself. I didn’t know what to do without her.” Sansa studied Jaime’s face and she knew there was more coming. She already felt ill. “Our relationship made me desperate to do anything and everything she wanted of me. I would have died for her, I would have killed for her.” Jaime hesitated and closed his mouth for a moment before he continued. “Your little brother, Brandon, he saw us when we were at Winterfell. He didn’t fall from that tower… I pushed him.”

            Sansa felt like all the warmth and sunshine in the garden had disappeared. Her mind reeled and she staggered to her feet. Before she realized what she was doing, she’d struck Jaime hard across the face. Her hand stung but it felt so distant as she tried to catch up.

            The man she loved, the father of her unborn babe, her _husband_ had been the one to nearly kill her baby brother. “Bran nearly died,” Sansa said, her voice thin and wavering. “My brother will _never walk_ again because of you.”

            “I know,” Jaime said and Sansa felt no pity at the regret she saw in his face.

            “Do you expect me to forgive you?” Sansa snapped. “I won’t. Not for this. This… _this_ -” Sansa choked back a sob. “Get away from me.” She was startled by the venom in her own voice, but she meant it. She couldn’t stand to look at him and be reminded of the things he’d just confessed.

            “Sansa-”

            “No!” Sansa said and shook her head, taking a step back. “I loved you and you lied to me.” Sansa felt tears rolling down her cheeks. “I don’t want to look at you.”

            They stood there, both of them not able to look at the other.

            “I’ll have your things taken to the Lady’s chamber,” Jaime said quietly.

            “That would be best,” Sansa said despite the ache in her chest. She didn’t like the thought of being so alone again, but she couldn’t stand the thought of sharing a bed with Jaime. Not after this. Sansa swallowed around the bad taste in her mouth and left Jaime in the gardens. She needed to do something, anything, to try and distract her from this. She didn’t believe there was a task in the world that could do so, but she had to try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter but it needed to be separate from the other things that I want to happen after this confrontation. Tell me what y'all think!  
> -James


	15. Chapter 15

            Jaime had been many things in his life. He’d been a vain boy, he’d been a proud man, he’d been a bad man, he’d been a broken man, he’d been a happy man. Now he was lost. He wasn’t sure what he was anymore. Despite his father’s many warnings of _lions do not concern themselves with the opinions of the sheep_ , Jaime knew he defined himself by what others thought of him. But lately, the voices of others had dimmed in Jaime’s ears and he’d basked in the love of Sansa, his wife. Her thoughts about him were all that he cared about.

            Now she wanted nothing to do with him and Jaime had no protest that he felt justified to give. She had every right to despise him, so Jaime left her alone.

            Their separate lives began the moment she left him in the garden after giving him a stinging reminder of her ire.

…..

            Sansa ran a hand over the swell of her belly absently, her eyes trained on what was outside her window. Her days had felt empty since she’d left Jaime in the garden, but it had more to do with her shock than with anything else. She didn’t know what to do with herself. She wasn’t sure how she should fit in the household anymore. She thankfully had the baby as an excuse to stay hidden away in her chambers. The only two people she would allow into her room were Maester Creylen and her mother who had been allowed to leave her cell and to roam the inside of the Rock, Sansa making sure there were guest rooms prepared for her.

            Sansa looked away from the window when the door opened to reveal her mother standing there. Sansa’s eyes drifted down to the familiar things in her mother’s hands and she smiled a little. Her mother was carrying all the supplies for a prayer wheel. “I thought you might like some company,” Catelyn said and moved to sit across from Sansa. She didn’t stare at her daughter but got to work on the wheel. Sansa watched her mother’s hands working and for a while they were quiet.

            “Will you teach me?” Sansa asked softly.

            Catelyn looked up then and nodded. She undid the work she’d done and nudged some supplies towards Sansa. Sansa followed her mother’s slow and deliberate movements and she used the meticulous movements to focus. She avoided thinking about Jaime and focused on her hopes for the baby. When they finished, Sansa’s was much clumsier looking than her mother’s, but it was passable.

            “What are you thinking about, sweetling?” Catelyn asked.

            “The baby,” Sansa said truthfully. “I hope it’s a boy.” She’d thought that before all of the ugliness had happened with Jaime, but she hoped for it now especially because she was nearly certain she’d never share Jaime’s bed again. She couldn’t see any way for them to get past any of this.

            Catelyn nodded. “Consider yourself lucky if it’s healthy,” Catelyn said but the way she said it implied that she too hoped for a grandson that she could coddle. Even a Lannister grandson.

            “I will.” Sansa fiddled with some of the rough edges of her prayer wheel. “Did you ever resent Father for things he did?”

            Catelyn blinked at the question, obviously surprised. “I loved your father very much, but…” Catelyn took a breath and let it out softly. “I hated that he brought that bastard home to Winterfell.” Catelyn looked down at her lap. “I thought I’d never stop being angry with him. I felt that he’d shamed me, I was embarrassed to have the boy in our home.” Catelyn shook her head. Sansa blinked. She knew her mother wasn’t fond of Jon, but she hadn’t known why or how deeply those feelings ran. “A poor motherless child was taken in by his father and I couldn’t get over my stung pride.” There was a pause. “Why do you ask?” Catelyn asked, looking at Sansa a little too knowingly for her comfort.

            “I love Jaime,” Sansa said, tears pricking at her eyes and making her throat feel tight, “but I think something between us has broken. Something that neither of us can fix.”

            Catelyn shrugged a little. “I’m not sure I can help you, sweetling. Only you can decide that.”

            Sansa nodded and she looked at her hands. “I think I’ll go visit Robb.”

            “Of course,” Catelyn said. “Give him my love.” Catelyn was barred from seeing Robb so Sansa carried those little messages between them. Sansa nodded and then left to go speak to her brother.

…..

            Jaime shifted on his feet outside the door and he took a deep breath. He knew he shouldn’t be there, he had no right to be, but he also knew that he had to go inside. He knocked and waited for a response before he opened the door.

            Catelyn Stark look startled to see him once he stepped inside her chamber.

            “My lord,” Catelyn said and furrowed her brow a little as she set aside the work she’d been doing. “Why are you here?” She asked, as blunt and to the point as ever.

            “I needed to speak with you,” Jaime said and he felt like an errant child standing in front of her. “There’s something… I feel like I have to tell you.”

            Catelyn Stark looked him over with that piercing stare of hers and then nodded graciously to the chair across from her. Jaime moved over to it and he sat, though he felt like he wanted to bolt from the room instead. His heart thudded in his chest as he looked across the empty space to see Lady Catelyn watching him expectantly.

            Jaime took a deep breath and started at the beginning.

…..

            Jaime waited for the anger to color Lady Catelyn face. He waited for something, but she just nodded. “I see,” she said and she sounded like she’d been struck. Jaime braced himself for something else to come but it didn’t. She was looking down at her hands in her lap and when Jaime made no move to leave, she looked up at him. “I cannot forgive you for this because it was not a wrong done against me. Brandon will never walk again, your part in that is what you will have to live with whether you see him and confess or whether you never cross paths again.” Jaime nodded numbly. He wasn’t sure what he would do if he ever came face-to-face with Bran again. “I assume this is why Sansa has been so distant from you? You told her.”

            “I did,” Jaime said and now he averted his eyes.

            “This will not pass easily.”

            “I don’t expect it to.”

            “Good,” Catelyn said. “Give her time to collect her thoughts and figure out what she wants, but don’t stay away so long that she doesn’t think you’re willing to fight for her.” Jaime looked at her in surprise. He’d have thought that Lady Catelyn would have wanted him to stay as far from Sansa as possible after his confession. Jaime stood and nodded to her. “I won’t stand for you abandoning my daughter and my grandchild,” Lady Stark said. “If there was one vow you had better keep, it’s this one.”

            That struck a chord with Jaime and he turned to look at her over his shoulder. By the way she was almost smiling at him, she knew she’d got him. He nodded seriously before leaving. He needed to talk to Sansa if she would even let him.

…..

            Sansa had gone to visit Robb because she needed her older brother right now. She’d brought down some sewing to work on and she stalled by threading the needle before she spoke. “I don’t know what to do,” Sansa said quietly as she tied delicate knots in her string.

            “About?” Robb asked and nudged her knee with his foot. She glanced at him and then went back to looking at the needle in her hand.

            “Jaime,” she said quietly. Every time she thought about him a lump formed in her throat and she felt like she couldn’t breathe. “He… he told me things he’s done. Terrible things, Robb. Unspeakable.” Sansa blinked to clear the tears from her eyes. She’d told herself she was done crying over what the Lannisters had done to her family. “He’s the one who hurt Bran,” she said quietly and it hung heavily in the air between them. Before Robb could say more she was confessing everything that Jaime had said to her.

            Robb was silent the whole time and even for a long while after Sansa had stopped talking. When she finally gathered the courage to look at him, feeling like a traitor for loving the man who had done so much wrong in so many ways, he didn’t look angry. He looked solemn and he took a deep breath as well.

            “Sansa,” Robb said softly, like he used to when she’d cry after being left behind while the others ran off to play. “All men do things they aren’t proud of because they think it’s the right thing. I don’t know why Jaime Lannister did all the things he did except for what he said: for love. He was protecting who he loved, and I can understand that.” Robb looked down at his lap and sighed heavily. “In this war I’ve done things that I wouldn’t have wanted if I didn’t think that it would get me closer to rescuing you and Arya, or protecting Talisa and Mother and the boys at home. If I confessed to you some of the things I’ve done, I’m sure you wouldn’t want to be around me either. Men become monsters in war because they _have_ to. To get through it and back home to their families.”

            Sansa blinked. She couldn’t imagine Robb doing things like that. He’d been the one to calm her down when she cried, to carry her back to Winterfell on his back when she’d scraped her knee, to escort her down to the hall when she wanted to feel like a proper lady.

            But she supposed that was Robb’s point. She loved Robb and he was capable of more than she thought, and the same went for Jaime.

            “But how can I forgive him?”

            “I don’t know, Sansa. But I hope that if I did anything like that, because I had to, Talisa would forgive me.” Robb shrugged helplessly and now he was reminding her much more of her older brother.

            “I don’t know,” Sansa said.

            “And that’s okay,” Robb said and he gave her a soft smile before nudging her knee again. “What won’t be alright is if you swaddle my niece or nephew in Lannister lions,” Robb teased and nodded down to the blanket she was working on. She snorted a little and rolled her eyes at him before shoving at his ankle.

            When she left Robb she felt a little better. She still wasn’t sure about forgiving Jaime, but… _but_. She wanted their family to work, but it would take time and it would take work for both of them to get back to where they were before.

…..

            Jaime hadn’t expected to see Sansa in the room they’d once shared. She was standing at the desk and looking out onto the balcony when he closed the door. She turned at the sound and they both just watched each other warily from across the room.

            “We need to talk,” Sansa said and she stood with her hands clasped in front of her.

            Jaime nodded and took a hesitant step away from the door. “I agree.”

            “I haven’t made up my mind about whether or not I can forgive you,” Sansa said bluntly and Jaime tried not to flinch away from her cool expression and tone. “But right now, that’s not what we’re discussing. I want you to be a part of the baby’s life. You didn’t get to be a father before, I’m not Cersei. I won’t keep you from your child.” Jaime let out a stuttering breath of relief. “But-” Sansa continued sharply, “-we won’t be the same as we were before. For now, I’d like to keep my own separate chambers. I… I still can’t look at you without…” Sansa cleared her throat and looked away from him.

            “I can accept that,” Jaime said. “It’s more than fair.”

            “Good,” Sansa said and now she looked more uncertain, as if this part she didn’t know how to navigate. “I loved- love- you, Jaime. But you’ve done some things that I need time to figure out if I can let pass. I might not,” she said quietly. “Not the acts, not the lies.”

            “I know,” Jaime said and he looked down at his boots, ashamed of himself. “And I know that this doesn’t make up for what I’ve already done, but I would never, _never_ , do anything like it again. You’ve made me want to be better, Sansa. Loving you made me see that what I had with Cersei was twisted and wrong and it twisted me as well.”

            Sansa nodded. “Give me time.”

            “As much as you need,” Jaime promised.

            Sansa nodded again and she looked exhausted. “I should go.” Jaime nodded and opened the door for her. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze before she left and Jaime felt a small flicker of hope spark up in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Jaime are working things out. Now, I need to make a bit of an announcement: I'm going to be taking a break from this fic for a while. Right now, I'm not in the Game of Thrones headspace, other things are taking up much of my mental space, so I don't want to just keep writing for the sake of finishing to finish. I have the entirety of the plot written out, I just need to fill in the story so don't worry, I will NOT abandon this fic. I just need some time to come back to it. I hope y'all understand >.<  
> -James


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